Every Day is Silent and Gray
by Swimming the Same Deep Waters
Summary: Dimitri's love wasn't the only thing that faded. With his repudiation, hope faded for Rose. Can she find her way back to color and light when every day is silent and gray?
1. Chapter 1

The daytime shift. It was better than you had reason to hope for and you knew it – especially after the events of the last month.

After Dimitri had blithely announced his 'love had faded' your entire world had imploded. Incapable of even getting out of bed, you'd missed numerous shifts in the dead-end den for delinquent Dhampir souls, otherwise known as Guardian Records, earning you a docked payslip and Guardian Croft's ire.

And then there was Adrian. He'd stopped by the night Dimitri had torn your soul asunder. Sure he'd used talking about Eric Dragomir as an excuse, but one thing had led to another, and you'd nearly had sex or let him feed from you – desperate to feel anything after Dimitri's words had crushed your heart. But in the end, all you'd felt was the inescapable certainty that Adrian wasn't the one for you, and that letting him believe he could be was every bit as cruel as what Belikov had done to you. So you'd ended it with him once and for all – sparking Adrian off on a drunken bender that lasted a week where he announced loudly and vociferously to half of Court that you were a bitch, blood whore, and a prick-tease.

By the time Guardian Croft had visited your dorm room to tell you if you didn't get back to your job filing then you'd be stripped of your Guardian title and privileges, life had pretty much hit rock bottom. Your love life and career were in tatters plus you were broke, and if you didn't return to work immediately, you'd also be homeless. So you'd closed your heart, buttoned your lip, and spent your time sequestered with the sequenced letters and symbols that now constituted the end point of your career.

Which is why you plastered a smile on your face as you listened to Lissa now.

"I know it's not what you'd hoped, but it's an active guarding position, and you'll be guarding me!" she announced buoyantly. To all extents and purposes, she sounded upbeat and positive, but her inner-dialogue through the bond told a different story.

She was worried about you. You didn't spend time with her anymore, and while she knew it was because Dimitri had regained his Guardian status and had been reinstated as her primary Guardian, it still hurt that you were never around. Which is why she'd gone so far as to pepper Guardian Croft with a volley of well-constructed arguments, aided by a healthy dose of compulsion, to convince him that you should be appointed her daytime Guardian.

"I've arranged things with my other Guardian," she continued, sensible that you didn't even like to hear his name. "You'll be working 7.30 am to 7.30 pm – which means we can have breakfast and dinner together every day!"

You gave her an obligatory smile. She'd neglected to state the obvious – that three-quarters of the time you were on duty guarding her, she'd be asleep! But it was better than you had reason to hope for, and you knew it.

* * *

It had been a month since you'd gone onto permanent day shift; two since Dimitri had cauterized your heart with his wily words. It never ceased to amaze you that the fleshy muscle contained within your rib cage still functioned, despite the nefarious injuries inflicted upon it by a man you still loved yet could not bear to even think about. Yet you were still standing, so perhaps your wounded heart was more hardy than you'd had reason to suspect? It was still beating ergo you were still hurting.

Standing in front of the mirror in your Guardian black and whites you carefully pinned up your hair, securing any wispy, flyaway pieces with hairpins. It was so long now – almost waist length when it was out. You should cut it, but you couldn't bring yourself to. Words from a happier time flickering on the edge of your consciousness, preventing you from symbolically and literally cleaving one of the few memories you had of him that didn't hurt. And in a time where every word, every look, was a harsh reminder of what wasn't – what hadn't and never would be – you'd take any scrap of comfort you could; holding it to your chest like a drowning waif while the waves of emotional distress buffeted you, threatening to pull you under.

You didn't need to dress so formally. Tonight was just dinner at home and maybe a movie with Lissa and Christian. You could have worn something much more casual, but you'd see him at handover. No doubt he already thought so lowly of you – you refused to give him reason to think even less. So you put on your own Guardian façade, smoothing imaginary creases from your black pants, checking the buttons on your pristine white shirt were fastened correctly before pulling on your black jacket. With a final look around your blank, anonymous dorm room you picked up your keys, and a small black bag, making your way across Court to the house Lissa shared with Christian.

You paused outside her door, psyching yourself up for what you knew was to come. Lissa's house was rich and warm – as filled with love, delight, and happiness as your quarters and life were devoid of it. And while you were happy for her, at times being surrounded by another person's joy was oppressive. Stifling, even. Even here outside you could feel it, pressing in on you through the bond – a miasmic influence perniciously trying to thaw your heart – tempting it with a false hope that one day things might improve. Yanking the bond closed you looked at your watch, counting down the seconds until 7.30 am.

As was your custom, you knocked on the door. As was his custom, he answered it.

"Guardian Hathaway," he intoned, carefully looking somewhere over your left shoulder. As though the very sight of you offended his eyes. And truth be told, perhaps it did.

"Guardian Belikov," you replied, your voice every bit as professional as his. Sanitized and devoid of emotion, your eyes fixated on a tiny piece of fluff on his familiar duster. A minuscule imperfection that hinted that perhaps he was a mere mortal after all, and not the God you'd always believed him to be. He certainly had the feet of clay. You'd know – he'd used them to great effect trampling your tender hopes and dreams.

"Anything to report?" you asked, keen to end this twice-daily torture.

"Nothing. I will be back at 7.30 pm," he said, leaving the house, and you, behind him. It was the same words every day. A stark reminder that he was only there for her, never you. That your presence was so horrific, it demanded his immediate departure.

Inside Lissa was setting the table for dinner. If seeing Dimitri twice a day was an exercise in wretchedness, the daily meals with Lissa and Christian were not far behind.

"How was your day?" you asked, ever eager to prevent the intrusive and almost inquisitorial inquiries about your own activities. Because there were only so many times you could admit you went nowhere, did nothing and saw no one without it sounding evasive - even though it wasn't. A probably unintentional byproduct of Lissa's beneficence, day shift meant you were perpetually at odds with your small number of friends – working when they had their limited leisure time and visa versa. It was ironic that Lissa's kind-hearted attempts to bring you out of your shell had only isolated you more.

Dinner and a movie over, Lissa and Christian retired to bed, and you set about killing the next eight or so hours. The first week you'd nearly died of the doldrums. Daytime television was banal at best, brain numbingly boring at worst. Deciding you couldn't endure months or years of that, you'd online ordered numerous at home workout DVDs. Cardio, strength training, muscle building – anything you'd been able to get your hands on.

Lissa had let you order a few pieces of equipment for the erstwhile unused ground floor gym, and over the last few weeks you'd fashioned yourself a schedule; get changed into workout gear, workout for three and a half hours, watch an episode of Game of Thrones while you stopped for a mid-shift meal, workout for another three and a half hours, get changed back into black and whites, repack your bag, set the table for breakfast and wait for Lissa and Christian to rise. Eat, do dishes and be waiting by the front door at 7.30 pm to trade places and a handful of words with the man who broke you.

* * *

Despite the frequent drills, it was the first time you'd heard the attack tone sounded at Court. A cacophonous claxon bouncing off the walls and hard surfaces declaring a breach of the wards and a direct attack on Court. Even in slumber, your body responded to the alert, and you bounded out of bed, immediately throwing on the closest articles of clothing – cargos, crop top, and a tight long sleeved Tshirt. Stopping only to pull on your combat boots and grab your stakes, you looked at the clock, mentally working out where Lissa was likely to be, and the quickest way to get to her.

1 am. Lunchtime. That's right – Lissa was having guests for lunch today, so she'd be at her house. Running faster than you could ever remember running before, you booked it to her house, cursing its usually insignificant distance from your own quarters. The undulating waves in your stomach proved this was no drill or practice session. As incomprehensible as it seemed, Strigoi had penetrated Court.

On full alert as you ran, you could see Strigoi fighting a group of Guardians down a side street. Mentally making a note to discount that as a potential escape route, you continued to run, arriving at your charge's doorstep some three minutes after the alarm sounded.

"Guardian Hathaway coming in," you announced through the front door before using your key to enter. Dimitri would no doubt be on duty, and it was poor form to enter the space he was guarding without declaring yourself.

Inside shocked, frightened eyes turned to regard you. Lissa, Christian, Tasha, Camille Conta and a young woman whose familial look suggested she was probably a Badica.

"Eight to ten Strigoi on Tarus Place engaged with an equal number of Guardians," you informed Dimitri and another Guardian you didn't recognize. They had apparently been talking strategy, so your information was welcome, earning you a curt nod from Dimitri. The first time he'd looked at you since you'd become Lissa's Guardian. Scratch that. It was pretty much the first time he'd willing looked at you since he'd been restored!

Checking Lissa and the other Moroi were safe, you joined the Guardians planning.

"If there are Strigoi on Tarus we need to move the Moroi to the closest bunker," Dimitri growled, his brow wrinkling in deliberation.

Your eyes transferred to his. As Lissa's primary and secondary Guardians, you were both well aware of the location and distance to each of the closest emergency safe spaces. One you immediately discounted as it would require a precarious passage through Tarus Place. The second was a two or three-minute walk away in the direction of Court. The problem was it was a large bunker, and the likelihood other Moroi would head there was high. All it would take was one self-centered Moroi to secure the outer door, and you'd be locked out with five Moroi to protect.

"The East Avenue bunker," Dimitri declared, reaching a conclusion at the same time you had. A small shelter, it would take you in the direction of the wards, but there wasn't much out that way. The hope was that the Strigoi would already have passed through that area by the time you approached it. "Peters you take near guard. Hathaway, you and I will take left and right far guard."

Far guard being a relative term in a situation like this, as always you couldn't fault Dimitri's logic. It was doubtful that Guardian Peters, as you now knew him to be, was as skilled a fighter as you or Dimitri. It made sense for him to keep close to the Moroi, and keep them moving, while you and Dimitri secured a safe passage.

"Prepare to move out," you warned the group of terrified looking vampires standing to one side. "We're heading to the East Avenue bunker."

"Why can't we stay here? It's safer to stay here and hope they miss us," Tasha Ozera queried belligerently.

You had a thousand things you wanted to say to her, none of them complimentary. But now wasn't the time to indulge in your dislike of Christian's aunt, so you promptly provided the answer you knew would immediately secure her compliance.

"Because Guardian Belikov has determined that is the best course of action," you barked, making it clear by your look and tone you would entertain no further discussion about the matter. "Christian and Lady Ozera, with your defensive capabilities it would be best for you to take the outer edges of the Moroi group. Lissa, Lady Conta and Lady Badica in the middle please."

You were careful to use the correct honorifics for Lissa's guests. It would be just your luck to succeed in guiding this parade of precious peacocks to safety only to be written-up for calling one of them by their first name without permission!

Taking your primary stake from its holster, you moved cautiously to the front door, holding a finger to your lips to indicate silence. Seeing and hearing no movement on the street you ushered the group forward, giving Lissa a small, determined nod as she passed you. If she saw you weren't flapped, she wouldn't be either. Bodyguard Theory and Personal Protection 101, you thought ruefully, finally admitting to yourself perhaps some small part of the innumerable hours spent in Stan Alto's company had proven worthwhile.

Once on the street, Dimitri led from the right while you were equidistant from the group on the left. You'd instructed everyone to move quickly but not to run. So far, luck had been on your side. Whatever target the Strigoi had, and you had no doubt they had one, it apparently lay toward the center of Court. You were three-quarters of the way there when your luck ran out – heralded by an increasingly queasy feeling. And while he might not trust you with his heart, Guardian Belikov apparently still held your shadow-kissed abilities in high regard, because he didn't hesitate to get into a fighting stance when you declared "Incoming," moments before the first Strigoi appeared, followed by several more.

Five. Not insurmountable, but far from ideal. If you didn't have the Moroi to protect, it would be so much simpler.

"Protect her," you growled at Sparky before you turned to face the undead – like always, the perverted darkness within you recognizing their similarity to yourself. Neither you nor they should have escaped death's moira, but its usurious fingers had exacted a price for your dereliction. Strigoi paid for immortality with their soul. And for your dalliance in the realm of shadows? You'd paid for it by becoming irrevocably linked with your savior – taking her darkness to give her a life filled only with light. A life you were now going to protect – or die trying.

As the first Strigoi threw itself toward you, you saw a ring of fire surround Peters and the Moroi. Christian, no doubt. You were relieved – it gave them a modicum of protection while you and Dimitri tried to neutralize the threat. Pulling every last bit of Lissa's darkness into yourself, you engaged with the Strigoi in front of you, staking it almost instantly. It was almost too easy. Turning to face the next threat you could see Dimitri had also got one down. And so it continued – less a deadly dance and more of a massacre as you cleared the area of the undead. These Strigoi had been new. Only hours old, if you had to hazard a guess. Probably a distraction to the main event. The ring of fire around the Moroi extinguishing at the same time as the last Strigoi, you urged your party forward.

"We're nearly there," you encouraged, trying to sound in control and unperturbed. While Lissa, Christian, and Tasha had a hold of themselves, the same could not be said of Camille and the Badica girl. Their resolve was wavering, and you couldn't combat if you had to cart a catatonic Moroi.

Coming around the last corner before the entrance to the bunker you discovered you hadn't been the only group to aim for this location; Strigoi, Dhampir and Moroi bodies littering the path in front of you.

"Get ready," you ordered, shooing your charges toward the bunker opening, after ordering Peters in first to check the space was clear.

It was, so the Moroi were about to enter when Lissa noticed one of the Moroi was still alive. Grievously injured, their grip on this mortal coil tenuous at best, Lissa insisted on healing the unfortunate. Through the bond you could feel the warm, love and goodness she was conjuring and magnifying within. It became almost overwhelming, and at the very brink when it became unbearable she poured it into the hapless Moroi – his wounds and injuries knitting themselves closed in front of your very eyes.

"Take him in with you. Now!" you barked. Camille, the Badica and Peters were dragging the unconscious Moroi inside, ducking under the low entryway, when disaster struck in the form of Strigoi – one appearing directly in front of you. Noting the chalky white pallor where time had long ago given up trying to find purchase, you recognized him for what he was. An ancient.

Another was facing off against Dimitri. It looked every bit as aged as the one you would be battling. But just as he was about to engage with it, it burst into flames. Perhaps not enough to incinerate, but sufficient to give it one hell of a surprise. That moment of distraction was all it took, and Dimitri was able to send it to the afterlife.

"Dimka! Quick! Get in here before more come!" Tasha shouted. Guess that answered the question of who lit the Strigoi, you thought before returning your full attention to the horror that stood before you.

It looked at you and grinned, impossibly white teeth complimenting its ghostly appearance. He wasn't going to be defeated easily. In fact, you wondered if he could be defeated at all. From the corner of your eye, you saw Dimitri moving around to the bunker opening, ushering Tasha and Christian inside.

"Take care of them, Guardian Belikov," you said, keeping your voice clear of longing and affection. Where there was one, there could be many, and he needed to lock them in the safety of the bunker; where three feet of steel and concrete would vouchsafe their well-being. It was your final goodbye as you prepared to pay for their lives with your own. Because you of all people knew 'they come first.'

Dimitri faltered. He'd always told you not to hesitate, but there he was – leaving himself, and them, open to attack. You didn't need to look at him to know his thoughts – that he was weighing up the risks of helping you versus saving them. It was one thing you loved about him; that his first instinct had always been to protect you. At one time it had been the thing you both feared most. But that was before life had taught you there were worse things to fear than losing the love of your life.

"NOW Comrade!" you roared. "I can't do this if she's not safe!" you screamed, hoping to God he'd oblige what was likely your dying wish. But before you knew for sure, your enemy was upon you.

He was fast. Faster than any Strigoi you'd fought before.

"I see your friends have left you," he taunted.

"They come first," you said tightly, gripping your stake resolutely. The one you'd almost killed Dimitri with in Russia. It had become special to you, and hopefully this time you would use it with more success. The battle was long and harsh. Every move you tried he'd bettered before you'd even concluded it. You were outmaneuvered, outclassed and out of options.

He backhanded you in the temple, and the world started spinning as you hit the side of the bunker; your head bouncing off the metal skin with a thwack. You slid down the side, your legs giving way beneath you. Completely bemused, your eyes met those of the monster before you. His lips were bared, and annihilation was guaranteed in his gaze.

Leaning forward, as though to embrace your imminent demise, you reached toward his pant legs, grasping and then tugging, pulling his pants down around his ankles. A smile graced your lips at the Strigoi's outraged expression. At twelve or two hundred, no one enjoyed being dacked!

He reached for his pants, and you almost lazily reached up, using the last of your strength to stake him. One moment he was there, and the next he was not; just one more Strigoi corpse, waiting to torrefy in the morning sun. Using the side of the bunker to steady yourself you stood up, retrieving your stake from his thorax. That tubular piece of silver meant so very much to you and damned if you were going to leave it as his prize, not yours.

Trailing your hand along its side, you walked parallel to the bunker. You needed to get away from this place. Strigoi might return, and you'd do Lissa and her companions no favors by leading others here. Yet as you walked to the doorway, it didn't appear to be entirely closed.

"I killed him…" you whispered, so tired you could barely get a word out. Was there a shuffle behind the door or did you imagine it?

"Belikov?" you asked again.

Nothing.

But then the door opened an inch, and a pair of eyes you'd spent months trying to forget peered through the gap.

"Comrade?" you whimpered as the door opened and a strong set of arms helped you inside. Depositing you on the floor in the dimly lit room, he put his shoulder to the door and closed it, using both hands to spin the circular handle, moving the five-inch metal lock rods into place.

You were alive and locked with eight others in something that paradoxically resembled a mausoleum.

Shaking with cold, despite the fact you were dripping in sweat, your Guardian's eyes took in the scene before you. Little more than a domed room with an electric heater in one corner, and a tiny alcove to one side that presumably concealed a toilet, there was a single faucet for water on one wall and nothing else.

There had been gym mats and blankets – but these had already been distributed. There, closest to the heater and its meager warmth, were Lissa and the injured Moroi. Both were out cold, resting on gym mats and covered with blankets, Christian curved protectively against Lissa.

"Is she ok?" you asked, worry lacing your voice. You tried to get up, but it was beyond you just then.

"She's fine," Christian said, looking at you gratefully. "You gave us time to get inside safely." He didn't spell it out, but you appreciated he'd understood just how far you'd been prepared to go for her. How far you'd already gone.

"That's good," you replied lamely, a relieved smile on your lips.

It was cold in the bunker, your initial assessment that it was tomb-like coming to mind. The blankets were all gone, as were the sleep mats, several of the Moroi using two to maximize their comfort. With only a thin cotton top and a layer of sweat that was quickly cooling, you were freezing. So scooting across the concrete floor on your backside, you hunkered in the darkest corner, pulling your knees up and wrapping your arms around them. Pushing your hands into your sleeves, and dropping your head to your knees, you closed your eyes, hoping sleep would claim you.

"It's 1.20 am," Dimitri whispered in the gloom. You opened your eyes to look at him. The single bulb illuminating the space was so dim you could only just make out his features. "With their enhanced hearing there's a chance Strigoi could hear us even outside. So no talking unless necessary. I suggest we all try to sleep and stay warm. I'll report in to Headquarters when the sun is in the sky."

You nodded. Sleep seemed like a distant fantasy right now, despite your thumping headache and inability to collect your thoughts. But dropping your head back to your knees, you'd give it a try. Anything was better than listening to the Moroi whisper about how uncomfortable they were!

"Rose? Are you alright?"

His voice sounded like an angel, or maybe you meant a devil? In either case, it seemed to caress your very soul – reminding you of the times in Russia where you were sheltered from the horrors of reality by his venom.

"I'm fine," you said with a shiver.

"Rose you're injured and freezing. You need to get warm."

You shrugged. The Moroi were all suspiciously quiet - none of them willing to compromise their comfort by considering yours.

"Come here; you can share my mat and blanket," he said, the selfishness of those you'd protected not lost on him.

"It's fine Belikov," you replied wearily. Right now even attempting to get up was probably a feat you couldn't manage.

"It's not," he said, lithely standing and coming across to where you sat. His gaze flitted over you, finally resting on your battered temple.

"Come with me," he murmured, picking you up and carrying you to his mat.

"Dimka? Poor Rose is injured. Why don't you share my blanket and mat and she can have yours?" she suggested. "I'm sure Rose would be more comfortable with some space to spread out."

With two mats, a couple of blankets, and positioned close to the heater, Dimitri would undoubtedly be more comfortable cuddling with Tasha. And the thought of that made you feel colder and more alone than you had when you were huddled in the corner.

"Thank you Lady Ozera," Dimitri replied stiffly, "but it's appropriate the Guardians stay closest to the door," he immediately rebutted.

Positioning you on one side of the mat, himself on the other, the two of you lay facing one another.

"Come closer," he ordered, grabbing your hands and growling when he felt how cold they were. Pulling you firmly against him, he guided one of your hands under his duster, placing it between his sweater and his jacket where the warmth from his body helped coax feeling back into your frigid digits. The other he tucked between the two of you, where it rested above his heart. Pulling his duster around you and himself, he then flicked the thin, ineffectual blanket over you both before snaking his arm back under the blanket and around you.

The warmth was instantaneous. Not from the blanket or Dimitri's body heat. It was being in his arms that did it. Something you'd dreamed about for so long. Back at the Academy, he'd never been able to hold you as often as you wanted. In Russia the holding had been proprietary and predatory rather than pleasurable. Yet Russia had been the last time you'd felt your love's embrace. Now lying in his arms again it all came flooding back; the tender hopes of a devoted heart and the bitter paroxysm of unrequited love.

But you were prepared to endure tomorrow's sting of repudiation. It wasn't anything you hadn't faced before. So you cuddled in closer to Dimitri, banishing your mental litany of 'love fades, mine has' in favor of an eidolon of Dimitri as yours; if only for a few hours.

Your head was resting on his arm, and when he tightened his arms around you. It pulled your face closer to his chest, his aftershave cosseting you with its comforting scent. The last time you'd smelled it this acutely was the night you'd shared in the cabin. Your solitary night together when he'd promised he'd never let anything happen to you. Little had you known it would have been more profitable had he pledged to protect himself.

The bunker was quiet, everyone sleeping or at least feigning it. The latent tension in your love's body told you he was not asleep. How could he be? Surely your presence in his arms must be as discomfiting to him as it was hallowed by you? It was a capricious reminder that yours was a lonesome love affair. Since his restitution you'd offered him your ardor again and again, but the only thing as unalterable as your regard was his steadfast refusal of it.

'Love fades, mine has.' The thought alone was enough to send your mercurial mood plummeting, and you were unable to prevent the traitorous tears that trickled down your cheeks to disappear into the darkness. But somehow Dimitri was not so oblivious as you'd believed.

"Oh Roza," he whispered sadly, his arms pulling you yet closer still – until you could feel every curve and plain of him pressed hard against you. His lips were in your hair brushing at your ear as he made the softest, soothing noises, his hand caressing your back. "You're safe. I've got you now."

And those words were all it took. What had been a trickle became a flood. Yet the whole time he held you, soothing you as months of pain engulfed you. He probably didn't understand that 'I've got you now' could hurt as much as his other four words had. Because in a situation like yours, hope was a far crueler commodity than yet another day of a stiff and soulless 'Nothing to report.'

You were trying to pull yourself together, to mentally segregate the thoughts of loss and pain and banish them to the part of your mind you only allowed yourself to explore when you were alone. A guilty little pleasure – the way you masochistically used his renunciation to emotionally flagellate yourself – beating any residual hope down with it.

Yet as your attention wandered back to the here and now, you were confounded to find his lips upon you. Delicate, noiseless kisses in your hair as he all but crushed you against him. He was rocking you gently, shushing you as his lips caressed your locks. With his back to the crypt's other occupants, you were hidden from their speculative regard - because at least one here would be a vicarious witness to any attention Dimitri gave you.

Your tears halting, you didn't stop to ponder your actions. With the certainty this was your only chance, you looked up at him, your eyes meeting in the dim light. Nothing surprised you as much as seeing tears in his eyes, too. Then you both leaned inward, pausing for just an instant before your lips met.

* * *

"Do you think anything happened?" Christian asked, his voice tickling at the edge of your brain as you surfaced into wakefulness. "They're holding each other very tight."

"Don't be ridiculous," Tasha growled. "It's just cold in here."

"It would be nice if something had happened," Lissa said sadly. Through the bond you could see the two of you through her eyes, and you had to admit it looked far from innocent; Dimitri on his back, your face nuzzled against his neck, his arms clasped around you under the blanket, his cheek resting on your forehead.

Dimitri gave every appearance of being asleep, but you felt the telltale shift as his breathing changed before his thumb started softly stroking your side beneath the concealment of the blanket. A final wordless gesture. You squeezed his hand before you groaned a little, pulling away from the comfort of his embrace.

"What time is it?" you asked, opening your eyes to see Christian, Lissa, and Tasha staring at the two of you.

"Nearly 8 am. You'd better wake Belikov," Christian replied as you reluctantly shifted further from your love.

"I'll do it!" Tasha said eagerly, gracelessly stepping in front of you and blocking Dimitri from your gaze.

"Dimka?" she cooed, leaning over to stroke the side of his face. "Time to wake up, sleepyhead!"

Her voice was cloying and made your skin crawl.

"Lady Ozera," he acknowledged opening his eyes, his voice sounding unwelcoming and frigid, even to your ears.

"Oh Dimka!" she tittered. "Old friends like us don't need to use titles!" Still, she stepped back, recognizing she had overstepped the mark.

"Peters, Hathaway we should report in," Dimitri announced, dismissing Tasha and calling the two of you to his presence. Guardian protocol for a direct attack on Court was to get your Moroi to the closest available bunker and maintain radio silence until it was light. It would now be daylight now, so it was appropriate to attempt a call.

"Do we know the identity of the man Princess Dragomir helped?" he enquired.

"Not yet, he's still out," Peters replied.

Dimitri nodded at Peters before his eyes met yours. His voice softened slightly when he said, "Let's do this."

You held your breath as he pulled his cell from his pocket, dialing the numbers for Guardian Headquarters. You let out a sigh of relief when the call was answered with the usual brusque greeting.

"Guardian Belikov reporting in," he announced listening carefully to instructions and then listing the occupants of the bunker. Several questions later and he rang off.

"It was an attempt on the Queen," he declared, the entire company hanging off his every word. "The wards are back up, and losses have been minimal. The worst of the fighting was in this area."

He went to the door, issuing instructions nonetheless. He carefully spun the large spherical handle retracting the thick steel bolts from their housings. With a final look at yourself and Peters, he opened the door, stepping out stake drawn. You followed, surveying the scene before you. The Dhampir and Moroi dead had been removed – the Strigoi cremated by the sun, now little more than dust in the wind.

"All clear," you declared to those waiting within, lifting your hand in somber greeting to a group of Guardians you knew who were doing clean up nearby.

One by one the Moroi emerged into the insipid morning sunlight, Guardian Peters bringing up the rear carrying the still unnamed Moroi Lissa had healed.

"Peters – take the Moroi to the infirmary then proceed to check-in at Guardian Headquarters. Hathaway and I will move the Princess and her guests back to her house and then join you."

The trip back to Lissa's house was short, but you were still on edge. Once you reached the property, Dimitri directed you to stand guard outside with the Moroi while he went from room to room, checking the basement, closets and other dark places to make sure no Strigoi were lurking. Once the area was declared clear, you helped the discomfited Moroi inside.

A knock at the door startled those within. Castile and Edwards, two Guardians you knew from school. They were here to relieve you so you and Dimitri could check in at headquarters.

"I'll come with you, Dimka," Tasha announced self-importantly. "I fought alongside you – they'll want to hear my part."

You managed to avoid vocalizing your outrage. 'Fought alongside?!' More like lit a Strigoi to give Dimitri a chance to escape before condemning you to face an ancient alone.

"That is not possible, Lady Ozera," Dimitri replied stiffly. "All Moroi are to stay indoors under guard. I will tell them about your… contribution. Someone from headquarters will be in touch if they wish to know more."

And then it was you and he, walking through the morning sun, the warmth of the eternal golden orb blissful after the cold of the bunker. From the corner of your eye, you could see Dimitri regarding you. Unusually taciturn, even for him, you wondered whether he was remembering last night, too? Lips meeting, gently at first, and then more firmly. Your almost inaudible whimpers as you offered your love to him one last time – his soft moan voicing his acceptance. But many things couldn't survive the sun's keen light, and perhaps the precious moments shared last night was such?

You reached Guardian Headquarters without breaking the silence. It was as though you were each loathe to say anything to acknowledge the way you'd clung to one another in the darkness. Providing your report with brutal efficiency, by 8.30 am you found yourself out the front, a twenty-three-hour furlough in front of you.

"Rose!"

It was the voice that haunted both your dreams and your nightmares. A voice you'd heard in almost every enunciation – from exultation to agony and everything in between.

"Dimitri," you said uncertainly, turning on the stairs to face him.

"Rose… Can we talk? We need to talk," he corrected himself.

"It's ok," you said, taking in his hesitant expression. "Heat of the moment, dark room, lots of adrenaline," you joked, each word piercing your heart like a dagger. "I get it. It was nothing."

His face fell.

"That wasn't what I was going to say. Was it nothing to you?" he asked his voice breaking and his eyes holding an uncertainty that was so unfamiliar on his face.

"No. It wasn't nothing," you owned. "Not to me."

"Come to my room, Roza?" he whispered, taking your tiny hand in his own.

Not trusting your voice you nodded, tears welling in your eyes.

As soon as he saw them, he moved to the step below you, pressing himself against you, wrapping his arms around your waist. Of their own accord, your arms wrapped around his neck. And there on the front stairs of Guardian Headquarters, he kissed you. A kiss filled with hope and love. A kiss you wanted to lose yourself in forever, but you had to pull back to breathe. And when you did, he rested his forehead against yours, smiling lovingly.

"Come on Roza, we need to talk," he said, taking your hand and kissing it before walking down the stairs with you, leading you toward his dorm.

* * *

 **AN:** Something a bit different for me! I'd love to hear your thoughts, so please review or message me if you'd rather!

I have a few different projects on the go at the moment (original / VA and starting in on another Fandom). If you're interested in staying up to date, check out my Facebook page:

www facebook com slash swimmingthesamedeepwaters


	2. Chapter 2

You'd allowed Dimitri to guide you back to his room, the taste of his lips still on yours, your hand dwarfed within his. You'd walked in silence, nervous about this new and nebulous accord between the two of you. As beautiful as it were fragile, you were hesitant to say anything lest the tenuous truce between you fracture. Because while you'd offered Dimitri your devotion, a willing supplicant at love's altar, your trust was a more expensive boon. Dimitri revoking his heart had wounded yours in ways even you found hard to fathom; it would take time to come back from that.

"It's not much," he'd said, opening the door and showing you into a dorm room almost as dismal and dreary as your own. Along with the usual double bed, desk, and chair, a small bookshelf and a poster were the only concessions to his hard-earned humanity.

"You still read Westerns?" you'd asked, walking into his room, your eyes raking across the neatly ordered titles.

"Always," he'd replied, his lip curling a little while his eyes regarded you tenderly. He seemed relieved you'd found something to talk about. A proverbial way to break the ice.

"Always," you'd repeated softly, the word bringing to mind a different conversation from a different time. Then the word had been given as assurance. A promise fate had proven perversely preposterous given the cataclysmic events that followed.

Sensing your disquiet, Dimitri led you to the side of his bed, motioning for you to sit before he did likewise, taking your hands within his. Apprehensively perched on the edge of the mattress, your eyes locked onto where he'd laced his fingers through yours, you'd listened as Dimitri confessed.

He'd started out seated beside you, watching you carefully as his commenced his descant. A soliloquy of self-loathing, solecism and shame, you'd been incapable of raising your eyes to meet his. His voice sounded so tortured, you weren't sure you could bear to witness his dolor – to corroborate it as proportionate and parallel to your own.

Yet somehow, more distressing than his words of repentance was the lack of confidence with which he voiced them. Used, as you were, to believing Dimitri a gift from the Gods, his hesitant assertions made him sound more like a fallen angel, 'committed to chains of gloomy darkness to be kept until the judgment.' The judgment he'd been convinced _you'd_ deliver, you'd then appreciated.

It had been a revelation. In your mind, Dimitri was a strong, stalwart man who during his resurrection had realized you weren't enough for him. It had never occurred to you that the corollary of his time in the darkness might be that he imagined he was no longer meritorious or worthy of you; that he'd regarded it an act of benevolence to release you from your mutual admiration and obligation.

He'd slipped from the side of the bed, kneeling in front of you and peering up at you tenderly as he'd avowed his unaltered regard. And then, acknowledging the devastation he'd inflicted upon you, Dimitri had begged of you the opportunity to expiate the fissures he'd bestowed on your heart and soul.

Unable to answer beyond a teary sob and a nod, you'd allowed yourself to be swept into his arms; the two of you embracing on his bed as together you quietly savored the experience of simply being together once again.

"I'm going to woo you," he'd crooned. "We'll take things slow. I've hurt you, and I need to show you I'm genuine."

And rather than argue, you'd smiled; privately relieved he hadn't pushed you any further. While you loved Dimitri, and you now knew you'd _always_ love Dimitri, you were looking forward to enjoying his pertinacity. First, he needed to convince you he was in for the long haul – then he needed to finally step forward and publicly declare his love for you. The time for furtive, recondite affection had passed. You wanted, no you _deserved_ for Dimitri to promulgate his feelings – at least amongst those closest to you.

* * *

7:12 pm. You'd finished breakfast with Lissa and Christian, and they'd decamped upstairs to shower, dress and start their day, oblivious to your devoted preparations in the kitchen below.

Pulling out Dimitri's favored mug, you placed it beside the coffee machine, checking to ensure the latter was filled and ready for his arrival. Beside these, you settled a single plate, carefully positioning two pryaniki. Russian honey spiced cookies; a thorough reconnaissance of Court's Russian food store had provided the perfect product for your daily ritual of love.

With a final glance around the kitchen, you hurried to the downstairs bathroom. A pretty flush on your cheeks, your eyes were sparkling, and you were a little breathless, the fleshy muscle within your rib cage pumping precipitously. It had been the same every morning and evening for the last fortnight – ever since the emotional epiphany following the attack on Court.

Waiting beside the front door at 7:29 pm, right on the half-hour he knocked and smoothing your hair a final time, you answered, letting him inside.

"Guardian Belikov," you greeted breathlessly, your eyes meeting his in yearning.

"Guardian Hathaway," he acknowledged, the ghost of a smile on his plump lips. "Anything to report?" he asked, his knuckle skimming your cheekbone before traveling down to your chin.

"Nothing," you whispered, transfixed by the need in his eyes.

"I missed you," he murmured, keeping his voice low so Lissa and Christian would not bear witness to your stolen moment. "I liked your photo," he praised, drawing a blush to your cheeks, "although it made it hard to sleep."

Your upper teeth bit gently at your lower lip. Once your charges had retired of an evening, you and Dimitri had taken to texting, spending the hour or two before he fell asleep trading sweet words and reassurances. But it wasn't enough; you both needed more. Last night you'd sent Dimitri a photo of you sitting on the sofa in uniform, your hair out and the top two buttons of your shirt undone. But rather than satiate his prurient thoughts, apparently your impudent image had stimulated them.

"Today's the day to ask them. I can do it if you'd rather?" he whispered, referring to a previous topic of conversation between you before pushing you back against the doorframe, his lips and hips pressed against yours tenaciously.

"I'll do it," you replied, eagerly parrying his kisses with your own. You knew Dimitri was modest when it came to matters of the heart, and while his restoration had brought him closer to Lissa, he still didn't share the comfortable familiarity derived from fifteen years of intimate friendship.

You heard footsteps on the landing above, so pulled apart with annoyance, establishing a professional, dispassionate distance between you.

"I'll be back at 7:30 am," you murmured, hiding your desire and dissatisfaction by fixing your eyes on the carpet.

Turning without looking back, you opened the door and walked down the front steps and onto the street, hearing Lissa's sigh as you departed.

 _It would be nice if they could find their way back to one another,_ she thought as Dimitri hung his coat and walked through to the kitchen to pour himself a coffee.

And you chuckled. If only she knew.

* * *

You were sitting at the dining table some thirteen hours later, wondering quite how to phrase your unorthodox request.

There was a fresh bunch of flowers cut from the garden in the room that you used to change and store your belongings. A guest room Lissa and Christian rarely, if ever, entered. You knew without being told that Dimitri had put them there for your enjoyment; another silent offering illustrating his ardor.

"Lissa?" you asked during a lull in the dinner conversation. "I was wondering whether sometime next week I could have a guest over after you're upstairs for the evening?"

Lissa's eyes immediately flicked to Christian who gave an almost imperceptible shrug. You skimmed Lissa's mind with your own and could tell that while she didn't like the idea of a stranger in her home while she slept, she was curious who you might want to see urgently enough that you were willing to ask for permission to do it on 'her' time.

"I wouldn't ask, except he's on opposite shifts to mine, so I won't get to see him otherwise…"

The bond delivered you Lissa's decision before it had opportunity to cross her lips.

"I'm sorry, Rose. I'm just not comfortable with someone I don't know here while we sleep. But I'll speak with Guardian Belikov and ask if he'd be willing to do an additional shift. You can take a leave day to meet with your friend."

Lissa looked at you genially, expecting you to be grateful for her gesture. So you nodded and mumbled that you'd think about it, giving her a wan smile.

"I'm not sure that will be much help," Christian said. While Lissa was your best friend, he was the more observant of the two, noticing the little changes in you and Dimitri over the last few weeks. Lissa might be indifferent to what was playing out in her home, but Christian, evidently, was not. Lissa regarded him questioningly.

"The friend you'd like to invite over _is_ Guardian Belikov, isn't it, Rose?" Christian asked candidly.

Your eyes dropped to your plate as you gave a small nod of confirmation.

"Oh my God! Are you two back together?" Lissa squealed. "When did it happen? Has _anything_ happened?"

"No we're not _together,"_ you said with quiet dignity. "We're just working out how things stand between us. And of course nothing has happened - we only ever see each other for a few minutes at handover each day."

You tried and failed to conceal your despondence.

"It's fine if Belikov would like to visit," Christian said decisively, giving his girlfriend a look to quell her intrusive queries. He could tell you were apprehensive about your burgeoning reacquaintance with Dimitri, even if Lissa couldn't. "We trust Guardian Belikov absolutely, and he's welcome to visit you here at any time. You don't need to ask."

"Thanks, Sparky," you said, blessing him with a rare, genuine smile. "We'll just watch a movie or hang out for an hour or two. He won't stay late, as he needs to rest for his shift. Working days means I never get the chance to see _any_ of my Guardian friends as I'm always working when they're not. It gets a little lonely," you confessed.

Christian nodded, moving the conversation along with artful aplomb. You half listened as he discussed the latest gossip from around Court with Lissa, your mind engrossed on your upcoming assignation with Dimitri.

A slew of dinner engagements kept Lissa and Christian, and hence Dimitri, out of the house over the next few days. While you were so desperate to spend time with Dimitri, even a night together guarding a Royal dinner party would have been welcome. Instead, you drew Eddie as your guarding partner.

"You're looking a lot happier these days," he'd observed astutely as the two of you stood beside one another, silently supervising Moroi pick at their minute meals.

"I'm _feeling_ a lot happier," you'd confided, appreciating it as the truth. You had the unmistakable blush of love on your cheeks, and it was no secret to you who'd put it there.

* * *

You'd just finished dinner when there was a knock at the door.

"I'll get it," you eagerly announced, jumping out of your seat before Lissa or Christian could respond. You could feel Lissa's amusement through the bond, and while you were mildly annoyed that your love life was a source of entertainment, you were too grateful for a few hours in Dimitri's company to be genuinely irked.

"Good evening, Guardian Hathaway," Dimitri greeted, his voice resonant and certain, smiling when you opened the door.

"Dimitri," you replied, using his first name since he was not working.

You let him in, gazing impassively as he hung his duster in the usual spot. How a mere mortal could make such a perfunctory performance look so poised was genuinely beyond you. He was dressed in dark jeans and a light sweater. Casual but not too casual. In a way, it was a relief that you were on duty, hence wearing your black and whites. Although you _had_ chosen to wear the fitted black jeans you wore on more casual evenings instead of the tailored black pants you wore when Lissa was going out. A subtle nod to your comfort, you weren't inconversant that the jeans also showed off your figure to advantage.

"I brought you something," Dimitri said, ceding a large box of chocolates. "I thought you might enjoy them while we watch a movie?"

"Thank you," you murmured, knowing you'd have to get the next few awkward moments over and done with before you could relax and enjoy each other's company.

"Liss? Christian? Dimitri's here," you announced, the two of you walking through to the kitchen where your charges were stacking the dishwasher for possibly the first time.

"Leave that; I'll do it." It was one of the jobs you'd habitually do to fill your time while they slept.

"It's ok, we're done now," Christian declared. "Hi Belikov," he continued, acting as though Dimitri's presence at this time of day, wearing casual clothes, was not unusual. "Rose? Lissa and I are having an early night. We'll see you in the morning."

Lissa smirked as she wished you both a pleasant evening, trailing Christian upstairs, despite the early hour.

 _If things get hot and heavy you can use the spare room,_ she trilled through the bond.

You snorted to yourself. _That_ wouldn't be happening. Watching a movie and some hand-holding was one thing, but you wouldn't be having sex while you were on duty.

* * *

"Oh God!" you moaned. Straddling Dimitri's lap, his hands were on your hips pushing you down against his hardness as the end of 'Deadpool' played on the screen behind you, neither of you paying it any regard. Lips suckling at the pulse point on your neck, Dimitri growled as you ground against him, the heat of your core rubbing against the bulge in his jeans. Your shirt was unbuttoned, your breasts thrust upward in the sexy lace push-up bra you'd chosen to wear today on the off chance things got this far. Lifting his lips from your neck, Dimitri buried his face in the crease between your breasts, reaching up under your shirt to unfasten your bra. You pulled back. If his lips met your breasts, you wouldn't be able to stop. You were already so close to saying yes, restraint and prudence be damned.

"We can't," you whimpered, wincing as his hands faltered. It wasn't that you didn't want to. But you knew you shouldn't. Couldn't. It would be the ultimate dereliction of duty.

"I know," he grumbled. "It's just been so long. I need you!"

He flexed his hips upward, forcing his cock against your clothed crotch, leaving no ambiguity about what he wanted. And you were so close to giving in. To saying yes. _Anything_ to alleviate this acrimonious affliction of abnegation. It had been six months, almost to the day, since he'd claimed you in the cabin. Your solitary sexual experience, to date, you felt the burden of abstinence every bit as much as he did.

Dragging yourself off his lap, breathing heavily, you started to button your shirt, your hands trembling. Dimitri leaned back against the sofa's back, closing his eyes and breathing through gritted teeth in a blatant attempt to regain his apocryphal control. Because no matter how often you'd heard the stories of Dimitri's legendary restraint, it had always been tenuous, at best, when it came to you.

"You deserve better. We both do," he allowed, his voice stronger than his resolve. You knew he didn't want your second time together to be on a sofa or a spare bed in your charge's home; a quick, furtive coupling, one ear listening out for footsteps on the stairs. You wanted time to cherish each other; to spend long, languorous hours intimately connecting over and over again as you finally avowed the physical side of your love. Even the thought of it reduced you to tears. The desire was so strong, yet the possibility remote.

"I should go," Dimitri said, looking at the time. 11.15 am. He would be back in just over eight hours to start his shift.

"Yes." The word hung heavy between you. It's not that you wanted it. Neither did he. But it was the way it had to be.

"I had a wonderful night," you offered, your voice shaking. "Dimitri? I've missed us so much."

"I've missed us, too," he replied, pulling you into a kiss that was every bit as sweet as the previous ones were not. "We'll work something out… We'll be together soon."

"Soon," you reiterated, leaning your forehead against his, a feeling of hopelessness washing over you. "We'll be together soon," you muttered without any degree of conviction.

* * *

"I want _all_ the details!" Lissa demanded bouncing down the stairs to breakfast the next morning.

Expecting you to reveal every titillating, intimate happening, she settled herself at the table as you served her Lady Grey tea.

Somehow last night had been simultaneously too much and not enough. After Dimitri left, you'd found yourself in the downstairs gym, taking your frustrations out on the punching bag for hours. So this morning, all you found yourself with was sore knuckles, a tiny love bite on the upper curve of your left breast (thankfully concealed by your blouse), and a decidedly sour disposition.

"We watched Deadpool. It was ok. A bit violent but you know I like that."

"I don't want to know about the _movie!_ What time did he leave?" Lissa pushed.

"I don't know? Eleven?"

11.26 am. Four minutes shy of three hours after he'd arrived. You'd spent the last five minutes kissing at the front door, not willing for him to stay, yet also not wanting him to depart.

"So what did you _do?!"_ Lissa pushed. "Did you…"

"We _talked!"_ you butted in, giving her a half-truth before her words led your mind to places you weren't yet willing to revisit. How could you explain your mixed feelings at how strong your desires had been? How disgruntled you were to have to deny them because of your duty. Your duty to her.

"We haven't really spoken since he was restored, Liss. I was so in love with him back at the Academy, but he was stolen from me. Then there was Russia, and I thought I'd killed him. He came back, and we restored him, but he wanted nothing to do with me. So much has happened, and I have so many questions. So we _talked,_ ok?!"

You were harsher than you'd intended to be. Christian regarded you shrewdly before giving Lissa a reproving look that told her to butt out.

"Well, as long as it went ok?" she fished, looking at you carefully.

"It did," you confirmed. "Thank you. We both really needed the chance to talk things through."

"Do you think he might visit again?"

"I'm not sure." And you weren't. Lissa, who had everything she wanted, could not understand how painful last night had been. That every kiss, touch, and caress had reminded you of the futility of your situation.

You were beyond grateful when Christian distracted Lissa by reminding her that Tasha was due to visit for a weekend in a fortnight. While she'd visited for lunch, on occasion, this was the first time she'd be staying with the young couple. You just caught Lissa's apprehension through the bond before she put up her defenses, concealing something. But since you didn't get the sense it had anything to do with you, you let it go.

* * *

The days after Dimitri's visit were misery. You knew he was as frustrated as you. In fact, Christian noticed and took you aside in a novel attempt to see if everything was ok.

"I know there's more between you and Dimitri than you're letting on," he said in a candid moment while Lissa was upstairs changing into pajamas before coming down to watch a movie. "Are you ok? And is he? You both seem so… tense."

You snorted cynically.

"You can tell me," Christian said with sincerity. "I won't tell Lissa."

His eyes had the look of honesty, so you spilled your guts.

"We're both really frustrated."

"Frustrated?"

"Yes Christian. _Frustrated!"_

"Oh." His eyes widened as he discerned your meaning. "So you and he have…"

"Once," you whispered. "The day before he was turned at the Academy."

"And you think you might want to again?"

"I don't know," you moaned. "What's the point of starting anything if we can't spend time together? I should just let him go so he can find someone he can go on a date or hang out with," you snapped, walking out of the kitchen indicating the subject closed.

Your whole shift you were troubled. Maybe that's what was preordained to happen? Perhaps fate had decided to disregard your dreams, vindictively reminding you every twelve hours, on the dot, of what you were never meant to claim?

"You're looking a bit… tired?" Lissa probed over breakfast when she woke the next day.

"Can't sleep," you growled into your breakfast cereal, hoping she'd drop the topic.

"Is something worrying you?"

You couldn't tell her your waking hours were long and lonely, primarily spent pondering the pointlessness of your passion, and that your nights were charged with unfulfilled longings – that even your dreams consisted of red-hot desire and a deep Russian baritone voice moaning your name while his hands possessed and claimed every inch of your flesh. Enforced abstinence not a lack of sleep was causing your disquiet.

"It's my dorm window. It's jammed two inches open, and my room faces the Guardian courtyard," you explained, giving a plausible explanation rather than the opprobrious truth. "It's noisy."

It wasn't even a lie. Your third-floor dorm room window _had_ been jammed open for months.

"Have you reported it to maintenance?" Lissa queried sensibly.

"Of course I have," you said glaring at her. Did she think you were stupid?

"Then why hasn't it been fixed?" Lissa asked naively, not comprehending a stuck Guardian window didn't rate on Court's maintenance regime.

"I'm sure they'll get to it," you sighed. Yeah. Sure. Sometime around the second coming.

Lissa pursed her lips disapprovingly. If you didn't know better, you'd think she was censuring you for the lack of action from maintenance. Your suspicions were proven correct the following day. Lissa was lying in wait when you arrived. Secretly cursing her presence, you went through a banal greeting with Dimitri, your eyes the only hint that there were other words you wished you could say to him.

"Guardian Belikov? A moment, please?"

Your eyes flicked to Lissa with trepidation, but try as you might her mind was closed to you.

"Rose has had trouble sleeping. She said her dorm window is stuck open and the noise outside is interfering with her rest. Would you mind taking a look? Rose? Give him your key."

Your eyes widened in dismay, frantically trying to recall the state in which you'd left your room.

"It's really not necessary," you argued. "Maintenance will get to it."

"How long ago did you first report it?" Lissa challenged.

"A while," you admitted with a sigh.

"I'd be delighted to take a look for you, Guardian Hathaway," Dimitri said, a slight smile skirting the edge of his lips, his eyes twinkling.

Recollecting you'd taken time to make the bed, and even put your washing away, you grudgingly handed over your key.

"Thank you, Guardian Belikov. That's very kind."

The Moroi night passed slowly. Usually, Dimitri would text between 9 am and midday, but today there was nothing. You wracked your brain, hoping you'd not left anything incriminating out in your room. Your journal was well hidden, and in any case, you hoped Dimitri would not invade your privacy to that extent. By the time 7.30 pm rolled around, you were almost climbing the walls, your imagination creating increasingly incredible scenarios to explain the lack of messages.

"Guardian Hathaway," Dimitri greeted, right on the dot of half past seven.

"Guardian Belikov," you replied, checking his face for any sign of emotion. However, his face was annoyingly bereft of clues.

"I was able to fix your window," he said casually, eyes locking with yours.

"Oh! Guardian Belikov! That's good news," Lissa said smugly, rounding the corner from the kitchen and stepping into the living room to witness your artless exchange. "Say thank you, Rose."

Through the bond, you could feel Lissa's disapprobation. Despite all but ordering his assistance, she saw Dimitri's act as a kind gesture and believed you to be unduly unenthusiastic in response.

"Thank you, Guardian Belikov," you said formally, your eyes declaring a more animated rejoinder as you took your key from his outstretched hand.

"It was my pleasure," he replied, his voice lingering suggestively on the final syllables. "Anything to report?"

"Nothing. I will be back at 7.30 am," you said, once again the model of decorum and efficiency. "And Dimitri? Thank you."

There was a spring in your step as you walked through the twilight back to the older Guardian dorms and your room. Smaller and more dilapidated than the block where Dimitri was accommodated, you knew you were quartered there as one more punishment for your previous transgressions. But it didn't bother you. It was a place to sleep.

A place to sleep that was redolent with the scent of fresh flowers! Opening your door and staring at your room in wonderment, it was vastly different to how you'd left it twelve and a half hours ago. The intractable window was closed, and in front of it on your table was a gorgeous bunch of gardenia and lilac filling the space with a delicate ambrosial scent.

Next to the flowers was a single white plate with a paper bag on top. You smiled, hopeful about its contents. You opened your closet door, happy to discover everything within undisturbed. Finally, your eyes rested upon a folded note situated in the middle of your pillow. Shucking off your jacket and kicking off your shoes you flopped back onto your bed. Almost instantly you were surrounded by Dimitri's intoxicating aroma. He must have laid down here.

Holding the note aloft, your eyes scanned the decorative Russian cursive - unfamiliar yet beautiful to the eye, even in English.

 _Roza,_

 _I have lined the tracks of your window with candle wax, so it opens and closes easily now. I also oiled the doors, changed the washers in your bathroom and put graphite in your lock so it should operate more smoothly._

 _I missed our texting. I hope you've had a pleasant shift._

 _Sweet dreams, my beautiful. My thoughts will be with you,  
Dimitri_

Dimitri must have had your key copied, because every few days after that, you'd come home after work to find a new treat. More flowers. Doughnuts. Once he'd washed and folded your clothing, your sheer lace underwear neatly folded on top of the stack of other items. Knowing he'd been touching the sheer scraps of fabric that covered your most intimate places did things to you, and as you'd carefully put away your washing you'd wondered whether he'd been likewise affected.

Yesterday you came home to find a cute teddy bear with fur the exact same shade as Dimitri's hair. You were relieved you didn't share a room, so no one was there to attest you'd spent the whole night cuddling it. After the first visit, he never left a note, but you knew it was him. And you couldn't help but love him all the more for it.

You sighed as you shimmied into your fitted black pants, selecting a white lacey bra and a slightly transparent white top. Professional but pretty. Everything had been going so well. While you'd not had another movie night, your texting had resumed and was getting more loaded with each passing day. You were scheduled to dine together this evening at Lissa and Christian's, which would have been perfect if Tasha was not going to be there.

You grimaced, already envisaging Tasha's verbal barbs delivered with her usual impeccant demeanor. You just hoped Dimitri would be able to see through it because you were already not in the mood.

Taking the time to do your hair in long loose curls before pulling it back into a half up, half down style with a barrette, you added mascara, a little eyeliner, and a pretty lip gloss. Just because you were on duty didn't mean you had to look like you hadn't tried.

Mentally girding for Tasha to try her worst, you walked over to Lissa's place, arriving a moment or two before 7.30. You were about to knock when you heard Tasha's contrived giggle through the front door. A series of trilling tones that were meant to indicate amusement, Tasha made it sound more contrary than convivial. Tapping with a little more vehemence than required, you were gratified that it was Dimitri who greeted you.

"Good evening Guardian Belikov," you said softly, a tender smile on your lips.

"Guardian Hathaway," he replied, his eyes drinking you in. "You look beautiful tonight," he complimented in an undertone.

"Thank you. I thought I should dress up a little since we have guests this evening." You looked up at him through your eyelashes.

"Dimka?! Who's at the door?" Tasha called out. You suppressed the sarcastic comment you were about to make, letting Dimitri take your coat and hang it beside his own before the two of you walked through to the living room.

"Guardian Hathaway is here," Dimitri said sonorously, his lips caressing your name.

"Oh good! Then you're off duty! Come sit down, Dimka. We haven't had a chance to chat in ages!"

"Nice to see you, Lady Ozera," you said cordially, refusing to allow her to ignore you as you walked through to the kitchen to let Christian and Lissa know you were there. Tasha muttered something that with a generous spirit might have been interpreted as a greeting before focusing all her attention on Dimitri.

In the kitchen, Christian was cooking while Lissa was pulling out the best crystal, flatware and her parents' fine china.

"I haven't used any of it since they died," Lissa said a little sadly. "I sent for it the other day. Since it's a family dinner tonight, I thought it was time."

You dropped an arm around Lissa's slender frame, leaning your head against hers.

"Your Mom would like that," you reassured her. "Remember how she always said you should use the good china for family, not guests because they're the ones who really matter?"

Lissa nodded, her wistful eyes meeting yours before forcing a smile to her lips.

"Come on, then. Help me set it all up."

The two of you moved everything to the dining room, carefully laying the table.

"Since there's five of us, I thought Christian at the head of the table, me on one side, Tasha on the other? Then Guardian Belikov next to Tasha and you beside me?" Lissa's tone was cautious, giving you the opportunity to object.

"That sounds great, Lissa," you with a distinct lack of alacrity. Lissa's plan would place Dimitri beside Tasha, but he'd be opposite you. Since you were willing to wager Tasha would attempt to monopolize all his attention at dinner, at least this way you could watch Dimitri without being overt about it.

In the end, dinner was not as bad as you'd imagined it. It was _so much worse._ It started with Tasha's feigned surprise that there was a place setting for you, given you were on duty. Put in her place by a none too subtle rebuke from Christian, Tasha spent the next hour excluding you from the conversation at every turn.

"You're very quiet tonight, Rose," Christian noted facetiously after Tasha yet again spoke over you. "Is everything well in your room since Dimitri fixed it?"

Your eyes met chocolate brown pools across the tabletop, and a smile graced your lips.

"It is. No more door squeaks, stuck windows, leaky taps or sticky locks. Guardian Belikov was very thorough, thank you."

Your words were for Christian, but the message was for Dimitri.

"You asked Dimka to play handyman in your room? Surely that's what maintenance is for?" Tasha said sharply, the look you and Dimitri shared not lost on her.

"I suggested it," Lissa said guilelessly, incognizant to the undercurrent in the room. "Guardian Belikov has been so helpful fixing things around here, and I knew he wouldn't mind."

"I didn't," Dimitri immediately confirmed. "It was my absolute pleasure to be of assistance."

Tasha bristled, so Christian quickly introduced another topic of conversation.

"So Tasha – you didn't tell us why you've decided to visit Court for the weekend? Usually, you make it a day trip."

Tasha's eyes lit with triumph, and you could tell she was about to reveal her winning hand.

"Well actually, an old friend of mine is visiting Court for a few days. A friend of Dimka's, too, as it happens. I thought I'd come visit you lovebirds for the weekend, and Dimka and I could go out tonight with our old friend Pyotr."

"Pyotr is in town?" Dimitri asked with the first glimpse of genuine enthusiasm he'd displayed all evening other than his greeting when you had arrived.

"Yes!" Tasha squealed, clapping her hands. "I'm meeting up with him and Anna at The Shark Bar at 10 am, and I promised them I'd bring you along!"

"I'd like to see them," Dimitri said with a grin. He looked across the table to you and explained, "Pyotr was Ivan's favorite cousin, and Anna is his wife. He's a lot older than me, but we always got along well."

A tightening of Tasha's face was your only satisfaction. Tasha had played her part to perfection, and there was no doubt Dimitri would be escorting her out on the town this evening.

"So how do you know Pyotr, Lady Ozera?" you asked with saccharine sweetness. "Were you in the same year at school?"

"Yes, we were at St. Basil's together," she said archly, the lack of denial about the year confirming your suspicion. Your victory, alas, was shortlived when she grabbed Dimitri's arm, stroking it as she cooed, "I can't wait to go out and see our friends! It's been too long!"

You dropped your gaze to the dish in front of you, seeking bitter consolation in Christian's excellent raspberry and white chocolate pudding. Plans were made around you as you ate; Dimitri was to return to his dorm and change while a feeder arrived for Lissa, Christian, and Tasha. When he returned, Dimitri and Tasha would leave for their night out with friends.

You were clearing the table when Dimitri left, so you let the feeder in and started on the dishes, having long ago been taught by Rhea that the gold-rimmed dishes needed to be washed by hand. However, it was all you could do to stop yourself pitching a plate in a fit of pique when you overheard Lissa's voice drifting through from the living room offering Tasha first visit with the feeder.

"Thank you, sweetie! I _will_ go first if you don't mind? That way I can get ready for my date with Dimka!"

* * *

 **Many thanks to ohorpheuss and martianeskimo for pre-reading!**


	3. Chapter 3

A date. What you would not have given for a date with Dimitri. Time together, with no pressing commitments, your only concern enjoying time with one another. Yet here you were in the kitchen, washing and drying the dishes while your best friend was upstairs - listening as Tasha dressed in her frippery, loudly boasting about her date, knowing it would echo down the staircase - calculatedly lacerating your already bruised sentiments.

It wasn't Lissa's fault. She wasn't certain how things stood between you and Dimitri. Hell – sometimes you were uncertain yourself. He'd promised you he'd go slow to evince his endearment, but after your passion on the sofa, slow now felt more like stagnant. With the prospect of romance for Guardian Belikov emerging again from a different quarter, you were worried his love for you might fade into oblivescence.

You could hear them from here; Tasha trilling in excitement as she trialed her tallest heels, Lissa commenting politely on every pair. Christian's Aunt had left nothing to chance, with a seemingly endless selection of dresses and shoes to tempt.

"She's not sure how you feel about Dimitri," Christian said about Lissa, surveying you as he leaned against the doorframe in the entryway to the kitchen. "She hoped something might develop, but she thinks the two of you have decided to stay friends."

"We _are_ friends," you murmured.

Christian raised a single eyebrow, calling bullshit on your affirmation.

"We are," you grumbled.

"You both want more."

You shrugged. What you wanted was irrelevant. If your desires held any dominion, Tasha would be subjected to an evening watching Dimitri introduce you as the love of his life to his friends. Instead, you were in the scullery while the wicked Aunt primped and preened, plotting her seduction of your beloved.

"It's just a night out with friends," you asserted, willing your words to silence your disconsolate thoughts.

"Of course it is," Christian said with a sardonic wink, leaving you to the whispering, susurrous fears rancorously coasting around your consciousness.

The front door opened, Dimitri's signature scent wafting into the kitchen before the man himself appeared before you. Dressed in dark jeans and a V-neck sweater, his hair was wet, and he'd worn it out. And more than anything you wished you were the woman he'd be taking out tonight; that you'd be the one teetering in impossibly high heels, grasping onto his sexy, toned arm to steady yourself.

"Roza?" One word, yet so very potent – it hung in the air between you – a greeting, yet also an entreat. "It's just a night out with friends," Dimitri said, his words mirroring your own as Christian disappeared, amiably providing his absence. Your Russian God's tension was palpable - he was expecting an explosion. And that stung, too – that Dimitri thought you so petty to begrudge him seeing old companions – especially when you knew he had so few and chances to see them were infrequent.

"I know," you said, feigning a sanguinity you were far from feeling. "You never get to see your friends. Enjoy yourself. Have a good time."

You turned away lest Dimitri see the telltale signs of obscuration on your face and recognize your half-truths. You trusted him. Tasha was the one who'd earned your misgivings. How could you explain to Dimitri that the whole thing reeked of a set-up, a trap carefully crafted to entrap him rather than an adventitious get together of old friends? That Tasha was using the bait of fellowship to lure him into an evening out, and perhaps a relationship, with her.

Dimitri knew Tasha liked him. Indeed her persistent attempts to foist an amorous liaison on him had earned his disapprobation. So you could only hope that Dimitri recognized tonight for what it was. He was carrying your heart in his hands; you weren't sure you could recover a second time if he dropped it.

Lissa's appearance downstairs forestalled any further discussion. Your best friend was doing a poor job of covertly scrutinizing you both, trying to get a read on how things stood. Determined not to reveal your disquiet, you joined Lissa putting away the dinner dishes, ignoring her solicitous glances.

A cough reeking of pretention and artifice foreshadowed Tasha's entrance. Standing at the top of Lissa and Christian's staircase, even you were breathless at Tasha's presentation. Dressed in a crushed velvet wine colored dress, Tasha's attire was striking in its brevity. Maintained by four spaghetti straps across the plunging back, the dress ended near the top of Tasha's thighs, her long slim legs further accentuated by spaghetti lacing over gaping slits on the front of each leg.

From this angle, you could nearly see her…

"Well aren't _you_ a sight?" Christian said, his arms wrapped around Lissa from behind, his blue eyes flickering with suppressed amusement as he regarded his partially dressed Aunt. Tasha stood at the landing like some sort of modern Lilith, enjoying her moment before slowly descending the stairs. As expected, she was wearing ridiculously high heels. Sure enough, she'd be clinging to Dimitri's arm all night, you realized bitterly.

"A girl likes to dress up every now and again you know, Christian," Tasha simpered, her eyes never leaving Dimitri.

"Or down," you muttered under your breath, gratified by an indecorous snort from Christian and an infinitesimal tightening at the corners of Lissa's lips.

"What do you think, Dimka?" Tasha twirled before blatantly fishing for a compliment.

"That's a nice color on you," Dimitri replied politely. His Guardian façade was firmly in place, so it was difficult to get a read on his thoughts. Initially, he'd looked stunned, and you weren't entirely sure that was a good thing. Tasha had set out to create an impression, and in that, at least, she'd succeeded!

"Well thank you," she cooed, slipping her arm through Dimitri's. "We should get going and leave these _young ones_ to enjoy their evening."

Tasha's eyes met yours in triumph. Lissa might be uncertain about your regard for her male Guardian, but Christian's Aunt was laboring under no such misapprehension. The final in an evening of insults, Tasha was throwing down the gauntlet – slapping your cheek with a glove, so to speak.

"Don't wait up," she continued, taunting you by running her hand up and down Dimitri's arm in a disturbingly affectionate gesture. "I have a feeling we'll be _late."_

Dimitri's eyes locked with yours a final time before the two of them left, leaving Lissa, Christian and yourself in their aftermath.

"It's 9.30 am. We could watch a movie?" Lissa proposed hesitantly, regarding you with searching eyes.

"Whatever you want," you said in a lugubrious tone.

"We've been out so many nights, recently. Why don't we have an early one, Liss?" Christian suggested, his arms still wrapped around her waist from behind, but giving you a look that hinted he recognized you didn't want company right now.

"I want to stay with Rose," Lissa argued, her loyal spirit and loving heart hoping to be of solace to you.

"Actually, if you're thinking of going to bed early, I wouldn't mind taking a bath," you stated, hesitant to suggest any boon for yourself, no matter how paltry. "They don't have one in the Guardian dorms, and I can't remember the last time I had one…"

Lissa was almost falling over herself to bring her many and varied bath products to the downstairs guest bathroom, placing them at your disposal.

"I could stay up, and we could do each other's nails after your bath?" she offered, but you declined. Tonight was likely to be ugly enough – no need for Lissa to bear witness to what was undoubtedly going to be a mammoth bout of maudlin.

After Christian and Lissa finally departed to bed, you filled the tub, investigating Lissa's copious cleansing cosmetics. After an exhaustive sniff and sample session, you selected a jasmine, lily of the valley and gardenia floral blend bath oil. Mindful that less was more, and as a Guardian it was perilous to drown yourself in scent, you added a couple of drops to the bathwater before slipping into the ambrosial heat. Submerged, up to your neck, you watched the oil float on the water in delicate multihued patterns that transmuted with even your smallest move.

Idly you swirled your finger under the surface, creating a little eddy in the redolent water above, the colors morphing and reforming as they glistened in their aqueous microcosm. A butterfly effect, of sorts. If one twirl of your finger could cause such cataclysmic change to this hydrous mix, what ruination could a night out with Tasha bring to your felicity? Hardly even-keeled to begin with, your romance with Dimitri still felt frangible, and Tasha's callous obtrusion could be the final assault. The one it couldn't survive.

Closing your eyes, you let yourself imagine a life without Dimitri in it. It wasn't an unfamiliar concept. After the bridge, when you believed you'd succeeded in your heartbreaking obligation to him, there had been a few weeks when that's how you thought things would be. But back then you'd had the blessing of being numb. You were still stupefied by what had happened – by the damage you'd inflicted on one another.

No. The real pain of living without Dimitri hadn't been when you believed him dead; it was when you knew he'd regained life, yet had chosen to exclude you from it. That misery was still familiar, and you worried it would be all too easy to slip back into the agony of his indifference. But Dimitri _wasn't_ indifferent, you reminded yourself. The presence of a well-cuddled brunette bear on your bed attested that. Dimitri had gone out of his way over and over again to give you tangible proof that he cared. So why were you so worried?

Pulling your legs up against your chest, you wrapped your arms around them, resting your cheek on your knees in much the same way you had in the bunker after the Strigoi attack. You stared sightlessly at the myriad of colors dancing on the water in front of you, your racing thoughts mirroring their expeditious motion.

You knew why you were worried. Tasha could offer Dimitri everything you couldn't. Everything you wanted for him. A family, a safer allocation, the opportunity to travel, the approval of their mutual friends - even money. As Tasha's Guardian, and lover, Dimitri would be set. Surely such pragmatic considerations counted for something in the checks and balances of his regard?

He'd chosen you once before, you quickly reminded yourself. After Spokane. And you were a better prospect now than you were then, you mentally consoled. When Dimitri had chosen you, then, you'd been underage and technically his student. His choice could have cost him his career and even his liberty. Yet knowing this, he'd declined Tasha's offer, going so far as to tell her his heart was with another. You hoped he'd make a similar asseveration tonight.

Sitting in the bath for as long as you could, you willed the seconds, minutes and hours away. Undoubtedly the start of the longest shift of your life, you knew no movie or television program would be enough to divert you, so once you stepped from the bath's tepid waters, you wrapped yourself in a towel, moving across to the room you'd annexed as your own. Slipping into training clothes, you were immediately pacified, the soft, worn cotton bringing to mind your many long training sessions at St. Vlad's with Dimitri. Your mind coming full circle, you growled softly, fastening your trainers before moving silently into the exercise chamber which would bear witness to the next three hours of self-inflicted cruciation.

After six full circuits every muscled burned, and you greedily gulped down a Gatorade, urgently needing to rehydrate. The bottle barren and your desperate gasps for air assuaged, you finally allowed yourself a look at the clock. 1.45 pm. For all your exertions, you were still only just over half way through this torturous shift.

Appreciating you were incapable of enduring more time in the gym, you returned to your room, peeling the fetid, sweat-ridden workout clothes from your fast cooling skin and relegating them to the hamper. Seeing there was enough for a load, you busied yourself with that, sitting on the floor of Lissa's laundry, languidly watching your sweats swill in swirling suds.

2.01 pm wash

2.06 pm drain

2.05 pm rinse

What the hell? Wasn't it 2.06 pm when you looked before? If the malevolent thoughts about Tasha and Dimitri were not enough, now, apparently, time was also taunting you by moving backward! By 2.40 pm you were hanging out your gym wear, standing in the brilliant sunshine outside while ruminating on the potential reasons Tasha and Dimitri had yet to return. While Tasha might enjoy a life largely devoid of responsibility, Dimitri had a shift in less than five hours.

At least you'd get to see him at handover, you thought gloomily.

Back inside, the house was irritatingly tidy. Lissa and Christian had straightened in preparation for Tasha's visit, so there was no occupation for your industrious fingers. Slipping silently upstairs, you entered Lissa and Christian's two-way bathroom by the hallway door to collect their hamper. While housekeeping wasn't officially part of your Guardian duties if it were a sunny day you'd often do a load for her and Christian while they slept. You knew from the bond Lissa was slumbering peacefully, but you cracked the door to their room anyway. A tear sprang to your eye when you saw Christian lying on his back, his arm protectively around Lissa where she rested her head on his chest. Closing the door soundlessly, you slipped away with the washing, refusing to give into the green-eyed monster threatening to overcome you. Things were as they were; envying Lissa her good fortune and happiness would achieve nothing.

Leaving the hamper in the hallway, you slinked into the upstairs guestroom – the room Lissa had given to Tasha. Tasha had cleaned up before she went out, so the bed was made and her clothes put away. In fact, the only thing out of place was the opened box of condoms on the bedside table. Your stomach rolled, and bile rose in your esophagus. A quick peek revealed six in the box. Had she taken the other half with her? Did she anticipate some _amorous action_ before she got home? And why were the rest left here on the table? You doubt she'd intended you to find them. Suddenly Dimitri hanging out all night at a bar with Tasha and friends was the least of the betrayals you were imagining. It simply hadn't occurred to you that Tasha might attempt to lure Dimitri back to her bed here. That she would tempt him into making love with her while you were diligently guarding downstairs, your assiduity making you an unwilling witness to their treachery.

Closing the door, you made it back to your bedroom downstairs, throwing the hamper into a corner before cowering on the bed. 3 pm. Four and a half hours left to endure. The clubs closed at three – you knew that from your infrequent trips out guarding Lissa and Christian. Dimitri might be walking Tasha home right now. But with every minute that passed, that seemed less and less likely. By 5 pm even the faintest hopes had evaporated. As much as you didn't want to believe it, Tasha _was_ on a date with Dimitri, and they hadn't come home. At this very moment, Dimitri's words and actions might be proving he'd succumb to an easier overture.

You sat in your room, staring at your hands, letting yourself indulge in an hour of unbridled grief as you decathected from the fantasy of Dimitri's love. The tears ran freely down your cheeks as a full range of thoughts and emotions beleaguered you – an emotional holocaust razing everything in its path. And as the clock in your room tripped from 5.59 to 6.00 pm you locked it away. If Tasha had succeeded in taking the one dream of your injured heart, the barest flicker you'd foolishly let Dimitri stoke back into a roaring flame, then you wouldn't complete her victory by allowing her to see your suffering.

By the time she returned, and like a bad penny you knew she would, you resolved to be calm, composed and more than anything unaffected by Dimitri's defection. Drying your eyes, and righting the room, you went back to the bathroom, reapplying the little makeup you'd foolishly hoped would secure Dimitri's interest, brushing your beautiful locks to burnished perfection. Then you parked yourself in front of the television, eyes trained in the general direction of the screen. And so you waited.

* * *

The creak of the third stair from the bottom alerted you to Christian's imminent presence. It was just before seven, and a check of the bond told you Lissa was still asleep.

"Setting up breakfast dishes?" Christian asked innocuously as you placed the usual three plates on the table not looking up.

"Nothing gets past you, does it?" you replied in what was meant to be a jaunty rejoinder but fell well short of the mark.

"No breakfast for Tasha?" he commented, and you could almost feel his intense gaze burning into your back.

"Not unless she makes it home in the next few minutes," you replied in as artless tone as you could manage.

"She didn't come home last night?!"

"No," you said, turning to meet Christian's eyes. Because if you didn't do it now, you wouldn't be able to later.

"Perhaps something's happened? Maybe we should call Guardian Headquarters?" he suggested.

"And tell them what? Your Aunt was out on a date and didn't come home?" you scoffed. "It's still daylight, and she's out with Dim… Guardian Belikov," you corrected yourself. "I'm sure she's safe."

"But something might have happened," Christian argued, determined to ratiocinate a conclusion other than the blindingly obvious.

"I'm sure it did," you replied acidulously, stepping into the laundry then out the back door to collect the washing. By the time you'd folded your clothes and stacked them neatly in the laundry, you'd regained composure enough to reenter the kitchen.

"Morning!" Lissa said with an overbright smile. You didn't need to brush her mind to know Christian had told her that Tasha hadn't come home.

"Chocolate chunk pancakes?" Christian blurted out, butting in before Lissa could form the question on her lips.

"Why not," Lissa replied sweetly, shelving her usual objections about your favorite sugary breakfast. Christian only cooked it on your birthday, but obviously, he'd had the acumen to appreciate a little culinary TLC would not go astray this morning.

Intercepting a loaded look between Lissa and Christian, Lissa immediately launched into a frivolous and long-winded description of a falling out between two of her Royal friends from St. Vladimir's who were now likewise based at Court. She was halfway through the story before she faltered, realizing the girls in question had fallen out over the infidelity of a man.

"So did you have a good bath last night?" Lissa asked, swiftly changing the topic.

"Yeah it was nice, thanks," you mumbled, relieved when Christian served the pancakes, so you had a reason not to say any more. "I'll just pack my bag," you mumbled as soon as you finished, jumping up and depositing your plate in the dishwasher before fetching your clean sweats and returning to your room. Leaning against the closed door, you took deep cleansing breaths, steeling yourself for the encounter only minutes away.

You could do it, you assured yourself. You'd done it before, and it was emotionally safest for you to slip back into a purely professional stance with Dimitri. In one way it would be easy. Part of you had always suspected you didn't deserve his renewed love. He'd looked at you once, kissed you a couple of times, and stupidly you'd given yourself to him again. You'd handed him your love and trust, and now was the time you'd pay for his perfidy.

Emerging from your room, bag packed, at 7.29 you stood beside the door in your usual handover spot. Surreptitiously checking your watch, while assiduously not looking at Lissa and Christian, you counted down the seconds. But the expected knock never came. The three of you were standing in stunned silence. The most conscientious and reliable person you knew, and he'd not turned up to work.

Pulling your phone from your pocket, you checked. Guardian protocol dictated in the case of illness or some other inability to attend a shift a Guardian was to report in to their guarding partner. But there was no missed call or message. Standing beside the door waiting for a partner it was clear would not be attending, you finally moved across to the sofa.

Your phone in your hand you rang the number you could dial in your sleep. For half a second you thought he'd picked up, but then you recognized Dimitri's voicemail.

"Belikov. Please leave a message."

You disconnected, staring at your phone as if it held some answer. The three of you waited ten minutes before you again broke the silence.

"Christian? I think you need to call Tasha."

"Of course," he replied, picking up his phone and heading into the marginally more private kitchen to place the call. Lissa grabbed your hand supportively. She might not know all the facts, but she could see your disquiet. Distracted as you were by Christian's call, you noticed a feeling of calm come over you.

"No Spirit!" you snapped before she shrugged apologetically.

Christian reappeared. "It rang out and went to voicemail. I left a message."

"I'll check in with Guardian Headquarters," you said in a reluctant voice. You were loath to do it. Not showing up for a shift would be a black mark on Dimitri's record – especially if it became known he hadn't appeared because he'd been otherwise occupied overnight with a Royal Moroi. Sure plenty of Moroi had a Dhampir bit on the side, but it was frowned upon – or rather the Dhampir was.

"It could get him into trouble," Christian commented bleakly.

"True. But if something has happened, the sooner headquarters know the better," you declared.

As you dialed, you remembered your recent dinner party guarding stint where Eddie had commented he was based at Guardian Headquarters for the next few weeks. Perhaps you could make your inquiry via him? If there'd been any sort of problem at Court, headquarters would be abuzz. Placing the call, then asking for Guardian Castile, you were relieved when he picked up.

"Eddie, it's Rose. Has anything happened around Court overnight?" Your tone was casual, but the words were not.

"Not that I know," he replied. "What's up?"

"Belikov didn't show for his shift this morning, and you know that's unlike him. I don't want to get him into trouble, but he's not answering his cell…"

"Nothing's happened at Court that I know of. Do you want me to send someone over to relieve you so you can check if he's in his room?"

You sighed, pausing before you replied. Coming face to face with the proof of Dimitri's infidelity was the _last_ thing you wanted. Even the thought of Tasha's smug face as she sat on Dimitri's bed wrapped in nothing but a sheet was enough to have your fist clenching.

"It's ok. I'll give him another hour or two. He was out with some old friends from Russia last night; he might have just overindulged."

"Can you call one of them?" Eddie suggested.

"We did," you said as clearly as you could, trying to stop your voice from quavering. "Lady Ozera was part of the group that went out last night. Dimitri was escorting her, and she hasn't returned home either."

Suddenly you understood the meaning of a pregnant pause. Eddie said nothing before uttering a filthy expletive under his breath. One of the few to know the chequered history between you and your former mentor, he could read between the lines.

"Do you want me to start a report?" Eddie continued, his voice brittle.

You closed your eyes.

"No. I'm happy to wait an hour or two. If one of them is not in touch by then, I'll call back."

"Are you sure? You don't owe him _anything,_ Hathaway."

"I know," you whispered, hanging up so you would not start crying.

* * *

Three heads turned in unison when the front door opened at 10.15; fifteen minutes before the deadline you'd imposed, after which you'd report Tasha and Dimitri missing.

"Tasha!" Christian gasped. "Where have you been?! We've all been so worried!"

You wanted to vomit. There, standing in one of Dimitri's familiar workout shirts covering her barely-there dress, stood Tasha Ozera. And she was grinning like the cat that ate the cream.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to worry you, darlings," she replied, smiling at Lissa and Christian while ignoring you. "It was a late night, and one thing led to another… You know how it is. I ended up staying in Dimka's room…"

Your faith in Dimitri died then; hope crashing and failing against Tasha's vindictive words. Unable to even speak, you looked at Tasha – and despite your most assiduous attempts, her smile widened in exultation as your eyes unwittingly broadcast the news of your broken heart.

"I'm so _tired,"_ Tasha said with a manufactured yawn. "I barely slept a wink," she confided, continuing with a giggle. "I'll just take a shower and be down in a minute."

"Tasha? Where's Guardian Belikov?! He hasn't shown up for his shift," Christian called up the stairs after her.

"I'm sure he'll show up soon," she trilled merrily down the stairs before the upstairs bathroom door closed and the shower started.

"Rose?" Lissa said tentatively as you stood up and walked to the kitchen.

"Don't," you replied.

"Was there something going on between you and Guardian Belikov?" she pressed.

"Please, Liss," you implored, your voice cracking. "I don't want to talk about it. Not now."

"Later?"

"Later," you agreed. _Anything_ to shut her up. You already felt so damaged – you couldn't withstand another onslaught, even if it were kindly meant.

"Rose? Why don't you go home? I'll call Guardian Headquarters and let them know Guardian Belikov is indisposed and ask them to send a replacement," Christian suggested.

Could you? _Should_ you? It would make Dimitri's dereliction official, and Eddie was right – he didn't deserve your benevolence. But you'd only be punishing him for choosing Tasha, and that was hardly fair either.

"I'll stay until midnight," you said in a voice that was stronger than you thought it would be. "If he's not here by then, ring headquarters." Spinning on your heel, you walked through to your room, picking up the hamper you'd thrown asunder earlier, taking it through to the laundry.

"Rose? Come sit down. You don't need to do our washing," Lissa pleaded.

"You're wrong, Liss – I do. Please."

"Come on Lissa. Let's leave Rose alone," Christian directed, grabbing his girlfriend's hand and pulling her back out into the living room. Tasha would no doubt be down any moment, and you'd take the mundane washing of your charge's clothes a thousand times over rather than having to hear the salacious details of Tasha's triumph audaciously broadcast by the woman herself.

There was a knock at the front door. You straightened to answer it, but Lissa beat you to it.

"Guardian Belikov," she acknowledged, standing aside to let Dimitri enter.

"I'm so sorry! It was a late night, and I set my alarm, but my phone battery died," he started to explain before his eyes turned to meet yours.

"That's fine, Guardian Belikov," you answered. "Lady Ozera explained it was an _eventful_ night."

"She's back home then?" he checked.

"Fifteen minutes ago," Christian said in a frosty tone.

Dimitri started to reply when Christian interrupted.

"So should Lissa sign you over to my Aunt straight away? Nothing personal, Belikov, but I don't like the idea of Lissa's Guardian fucking my Aunt then bailing on his shift. I guess if you're Tasha's Guardian it won't matter if you spend half your shift in her bed, or her in yours."

Dimitri shook his head in confusion.

"Your Aunt? I didn't…"

"You're just lucky Rose didn't want a black mark on your record so agreed to stick around and cover your shift instead of reporting you to headquarters," Christian continued. "If the choice had been mine, you'd not be so fortunate."

Turning to look at you, Dimitri's eyes were wide.

"Rose. Roza? I didn't sleep with Tasha. We all had a late night and…"

You silenced his lips with a right hook to his face. The interminable hours of torment as you'd waited – the self-doubt, reproach, and mortification finding emancipation by way of your fist and his jaw. You knocked the lofty Guardian off his feet. Indeed, as you shook your hand, you noticed he'd fallen to his knees in front of you. Staring up with bewildered eyes, he nonetheless grabbed your hand, gently rubbing it and checking you'd caused it no damage with your precipitant strike. And even knowing what he'd done, and with whom he'd done it, you couldn't stop the shiver of pleasure evinced by his touch.

"Don't you touch her!" Christian snarled, leaning forward to pull your hand from Dimitri's.

"I didn't sleep with your Aunt!" Dimitri bellowed through his rapidly swelling lips.

"That's not what she says," you spat, wrenching your hand from his. "She arrived home in your sweatshirt; said she'd had a _long night._ That she'd _barely slept_ and that she'd stayed the night in _your_ dorm room."

When you said it out loud like that, your body's traitorous response to Dimitri's touch angered you even more.

" _Yes_ she slept in my dorm room," Dimitri blurted out. "But _I_ didn't! Tasha was drunk and kept insisting she wanted to spend the night with me. I'm not interested in her in that way, but she was causing a scene. So I took her back to my dorm, waited till she crashed on my bed, then I left a note and got out of there."

Christian regarded Dimitri with undisguised disbelief, yet something in your Comrade's eyes spoke the truth.

"Where did you go?" you asked softly as Dimitri sinuously stood up in front of you, stepping forward and grasping both your hands.

"Where do you _think_ I went, Roza?" he asked, his voice tender. "I went to your room. I'm sorry I'm late for my shift. It was a late night. But I slept like a baby because I slept in sheets that smelled of _you."_

"You didn't do anything with _her?"_

"Of course not," he crooned, pulling you into his embrace. "I love _you_ , Rose. _Only_ you."

"You love Rose?" Lissa squealed, jumping up and down and clapping her hands like a demented Sea World seal. Dimitri looked up, blessing his charge with a wonky, swollen smile.

"I do, Princess. With all my heart." And then he lowered his lips to yours.

You kissed him as gently as you were able, slipping your hands around the back of his neck as his wrapped around your waist, holding you tight; his chiseled chest some sort of natural anxiolytic, soothing you instantly.

"I'm sorry about your face," you whispered against his lips, kissing him lightly to take the sting of your punch away.

"It's ok," he murmured, capturing your lips with his again. Finally breaking away to gaze into your eyes, Dimitri declared, "I know we'd said we'd take it slow, but I'm in love with you Rose Hathaway. I want you to be mine, and I want the world to know."

"But it's not like we can even be together," you argued feebly, wanting to put up no resistance at all. The pain of dinner, and then the evening without Dimitri had been educative enough. You wouldn't recover a second time so this had to be it; you had to make this work.

"Soon," Dimitri pledged, lowering his lips to yours and pulling you harder against him. "Soon, I promise."

* * *

 _Thanks for you patience for the long awaited chapter 3, Every Day is Silent and Gray._  
 _If you're curious about the dress Tasha wears for her 'date' with Dimitri, check it out on my Facebook Page:  
www facebook com / swimmingthesamedeepwaters_


	4. Chapter 4

"Please, Dimitri, let me," Lissa said her previous aloofness forgotten as she benevolently laid her hand on Dimitri's jaw. You watched as his swollen, distended lips shrank, Lissa's Spirit willing them back into their usual, beautiful state.

"Thank you, Princess," he murmured giving her a grateful look.

"Yeah, thanks, Liss," you acknowledged, taking advantage of Dimitri's healed lips to kiss them yet again. Guiding you across to the sofa, Dimitri pulled you onto his lap, your thighs straddling his. His arms wrapped around you, your lips joined, you were seeking solace in each other. "I was so worried," you breathlessly confessed when you pulled back momentarily, your lips and words hidden in your love's hair.

"I knew you would be," Dimitri replied quietly, giving you an apologetic look.

"You could have texted!"

"I wanted to, but my phone was nearly flat, and I needed to save the battery for my alarm."

"Well didn't that work out well?" you replied sarcastically. "Instead of sending me a text to tell me you were sleeping in my bed and thinking about me, which would have saved me from worrying, you set an alarm which failed to go off, so I worried even more."

"I'm sorry," Dimitri replied sheepishly. "It was late, and I was tired."

"You promise _nothing_ happened between you and Tasha?" you checked, wanting to hear it from his lips a second time.

"Not a thing. I _promise,_ Roza."

You were cuddled against Dimitri's chest; your face nuzzled into his neck as Lissa sat at the other end of the sofa, Christian perched on the armrest behind her. You couldn't be angry at Dimitri. While his actions had been indubitably ill-considered, for the first time in a long time, you felt at peace; as though, despite a decidedly anfractuous journey, everything in your life had finally reached its preordained position.

"So, does this mean you two are together?" Lissa asked, a pantagruelian grin on her pale Moroi face. If you'd ever had reason to doubt Lissa's desire for your happiness, her smile now was more than enough to correct your fallacious thoughts.

"If Rose will have me, yes it does," Dimitri replied categorically, pulling you harder against him.

" _Of course_ I'll have you," you replied, putting one hand on either side of his face and guiding his lips to yours once again. You were thus situated when you heard footsteps on the stairs, and Tasha rounded the corner into the living room to find you and Dimitri amorously engaged, Lissa and Christian looking on with abundant satisfaction.

Tasha's face when she saw you affectionately perched on Dimitri's lap, his strong arms wrapped around you in a lover's embrace, was almost enough to make up for the interminable hours of purgatory when you'd fretted he'd been involved in some similar sort of activity with her. You wanted to be the better person – to be magnanimous in your victory. But then you remembered Tasha's look of conquest when she'd arrived – how she'd intentionally misrepresented the situation for no reason other than vanquishing your hopes – and you felt a lot less clement. She must have known that when Dimitri appeared, he would confirm nothing had happened between them. So, her misleading comments had been nothing but malice – serving no purpose other than to wound and hurt.

"Good morning Lady Ozera," you chirped, still sitting astride Dimitri – your happy tone and blissful expression your final act of obstrigillation.

"Tasha," Dimitri likewise acknowledged, although his voice was decidedly wary.

"So where did you end up last night?" Tasha asked with an insincere air of unconcern. "I woke up in your bed, but I was alone."

Even _now_ she was trying to imply something had happened. But you were confident of the veracity of Dimitri's word. You weren't going to let Tasha's insinuations perturb you again. There was only going to be one winner in this monomachy, and it wasn't going to be Tasha.

"You'd had a little too much to drink," Dimitri said, carefully skirting the issue of Tasha's amorous attempts. "You needed to sleep it off, so I let you have my room."

"And Dimitri slept in my room," you concluded. "We're together, so he has a key." You said the words pleasantly, but Tasha was not unaware of the undertone. This was you staking your claim, once and for all.

"You're together?" Tasha scoffed, bravado concealing her shock and chagrin. "Since when?! You're on opposite shifts – you'd never see each other."

"That does make it hard," Dimitri acknowledged, squeezing you affectionately. "But it won't be like that forever. We're hoping we can rework things, so we're on the same shift. I love Rose – I'm willing to wait as long as it takes."

"Love her?! You can't stand to be in the same room with her," Tasha snapped in a splenetic retort, clutching at straws now Dimitri had declared you his inamorata. "I was there after you were restored! You _begged_ Lissa to keep Rose away from you."

"I did," Dimitri replied, shifting you from his lap and turning to look at you. "Even then I loved you so much. It just hurt to see you - to know what happened between us." Dimitri whispered the last words, penitent and compunctious, debasing himself yet again in search of your forgiveness. The forgiveness you'd already freely given him. Tasha's words had been said to aggrieve you, but they'd injured Dimitri – and for that you loathed Tasha.

"All water under the bridge," you smiled, issuing your loving paregoric and ignoring the gnashing of Tasha's teeth as you leaned in to kiss your man. "We're here together now, and that's all that matters."

"Yes. Guardian Belikov _is_ here," Tasha remarked artfully. "So shouldn't you be leaving, Guardian Hathaway? After all - your shift is over."

Christian's eyes shot to his aunt, shocked at her outright rudeness.

"I asked Rose to stay," Lissa lied, forcibly reminding Tasha who the house belonged to. "You're leaving today, aren't you, Tasha?"

"I was, but last night was such a _late night._ I thought I might stay another day if that's ok?" Tasha responded with a crafty inflection.

Lissa smiled sweetly, but privy as you were to her inner thoughts, you knew better than to take her at face value.

"Normally you'd be very welcome, but I have some friends from St. Vladimir's arriving to stay for a few days. It's why I've invited Rose to stay," Lissa said with every outward appearance of verity. "They're her friends, too."

"Sorry, Tasha. This was all organized before you asked to stay," Christian chimed in, adding a degree of authenticity. "We're going to be full to the rafters."

"Well I'd hate to be a burden," Tasha said, giving Christian a snide look. "I'll go upstairs and pack."

"Don't forget to leave Dimitri's shirt," you called out after her as she climbed the stairs to the guest room.

* * *

"Good morning Guardian Hathaway," Dimitri crooned as you opened the door an hour before the end of your shift.

"Guardian Belikov," you grinned, letting him in and closing the door before allowing him to pull you into a hot, sexy kiss.

It had been this way since Tasha's visit when you and Dimitri had declared your allegiance a month earlier. You each arrived an hour early for your shift and stayed an hour later; the combination giving you four hours together every day. Still not a lot, and one of you was always on duty, but it was a monumental increase on the time you'd had together before, and a further step in the anabiosis of your relationship.

Lissa and Christian had been designedly complaisant, timing their meals and downstairs appearances in a munificent attempt to maximize your alone time with Dimitri. It was a kindness you both appreciated, although part of you chafed at the necessity. It didn't seem fair that your ability to spend time with your beloved depended on the beneficence of others.

You pulled back from Dimitri's kiss, surprised to hear footsteps overhead. By unspoken accord, 6.30 – 7.00 pm was your 'private' time with Dimitri; Lissa and Christian habitually coming down to breakfast at 7.00 pm. But here it was, 6.30 and the front door barely closed, and they were coming downstairs.

Lissa artfully cleared her throat as she reached the landing, before descending the stairs.

"Morning Rose, Dimitri!" she grinned, Christian standing beside her with a matching smirk. You tried brushing Lissa's mind to determine what had her looking so convivial so early, but inexplicably she had her barriers up. "Let's sit down for a moment," Lissa said, gesturing to the sofas. She and Christian sat on one, leaving the other for Dimitri and yourself.

"So I had a meeting with Her Majesty yesterday," she started, "and then Christian and I had a long talk. Come January, we've decided to both start degrees at Lehigh."

You looked at Dimitri, unsure what this would mean.

"Since we'll be living outside a Moroi stronghold, Her Majesty has approved a larger security detail. Guardian Belikov, you are to remain my primary Guardian and supervise a team of five others."

You still couldn't comprehend why Lissa looked so excited, and what this meant for you.

"Do I get to go, too?" you asked nervously.

"Of course! Unless you want to be reallocated," Lissa said, giving you an excited grin. "Although Guardian Belikov will be in charge, so depending on how he wants to organize things, you might have to change your shift…"

You spun to Dimitri, eyes wide. "We could be on the same shift!" you squealed, throwing your arms around his neck, pulling his lips to yours. "We'd have _twelve hours_ off together _every day_ " you murmured, peppering his face with kisses.

Dimitri didn't have to say a word; the appetence evident in his eyes said it all. His lips pressed hard against yours, arms snaking around your waist and pulling you onto his lap, you were so engrossed you almost missed Lissa's next bombshell. She cleared her throat and waited for your attention.

"As part of this, Guardian Belikov, Her Majesty has requested you travel to Lehigh next week for a week to arrange our accommodations. She'd like everything settled before Christmas so we'll be ready to relocate early in the New Year. Guardian Hathaway has been cleared to travel with you; I have no doubt you'll choose something suitable, however, Rose and I _have_ lived together in the human world before so I think her input would be useful."

And there it was. Lissa's wily plan. Her smile was insufferably smug as she took in your dumbfounded expression. Somehow Lissa had managed to conceal from you a plan to give you and Dimitri a week together. Alone.

' _Think of it as an early Christmas present'_ she trilled through the bond as all the ramifications of her gift became apparent.

"Who will be guarding you while we're away?" Dimitri asked, his brain apparently still working, which was serendipitous as you were agog.

"That's for you to decide, Guardian Belikov. The Allocations Office has given me a list of available Guardians for you to peruse. They're hoping you'll find four people suitable to join us at Lehigh on the list. If you can find two you're happy with straight away, they can take over guarding responsibilities for you and Rose for the week." She passed Dimitri a couple of stapled sheets of paper. You peered over his shoulder. Most of the names were unfamiliar to you.

"Castile is a given," Dimitri said adamantly, his finger lingering over Eddie's name on the list. Like you, Eddie had been punished for his part in Dimitri's resurrection. Not that anyone not involved knew the real story. But Hans Croft had made it clear that Eddie would be permanently overlooked for a quality position thanks to his part in taking Lissa to Las Vegas, so it was probably just as well he'd bought the verisimilitude of it being an ill-advised weekend jaunt, the truth being distinctly more opprobrious.

You felt a tremendous amount of culpability for the ruination of Eddie's promising career, and you knew Dimitri also felt that burden of that responsibility. Everything Eddie had done had been in aid of Dimitri's restoration, so you both thought you owed Eddie a shot to get out of the Guardian casual work pool to which he'd been cruelly relegated.

"Why is Meredith listed here? I thought she got a good allocation with Lady Drozdov?" you asked.

"Lord Drozdov took too much interest in her, so Lady Drozdov put her up for reallocation," Lissa replied, frequent sojourns with Queen Tatiana furnishing the last Dragomir with a seemingly endless supply of Court gossip and hearsay.

"Their loss is our gain. You could do a _lot_ worse than Castile and Edwards," Dimitri voiced. "They're my top picks. For the last two positions, we should interview some of the others listed."

The next week was a whirlwind of activity. Lissa, Christian, and Dimitri hosted a dinner where they'd formally asked Eddie and Meredith if they'd like to be part of the guarding team. It was impossible not to revel in their elation when they accepted, particularly Eddie's. The flat, stoic look in his eyes faded, and after so many months of silent suffering, he looked as though he could once again face the future with enthusiasm. He and Meredith were both sensible that this was a sterling opportunity, so their acceptance was instantaneous and unequivocal.

The rest of the time, Dimitri, Lissa, and Christian were assiduously interviewing other potentials. After five days, and finding no one suitable, Dimitri heard of a brother and sister team from St. Basil's who'd instigated reallocation to America. Twins, they both had unimpeachable records, but due to the loss of their family in Russia, they'd requested placement overseas.

Dimitri had spoken with them at length in Russian, and English, and despite being unable to interview them face to face, he'd agreed to offer them an allocation from the New Year to August. If it worked out, then they would stay on. If not, then they could be reallocated in the main allocations round. And as efficiently as that, the Lehigh team had been selected.

"If the bedframe's a-rocking, don't come a-knocking… If the headboard is bumping, you know they're busy humping! If lips are busy sucking, you know they're in there fu…."

"CHRISTIAN!" Lissa snapped, giving her boyfriend a deleterious glare.

" _What?_ I'm just saying it as it is!" Christian replied, giving Eddie a wink which the later judiciously resolved to ignore.

It was mere minutes before you and Dimitri were due to leave on your accommodation-finding mission, and Christian was celebrating the fact that, very soon, you and Dimitri would finally have the chance for _alone_ time together. It might have been amusing, were it not your non-existent sex life Christian was mocking.

You stood beside Eddie and watched. It was like something from a nature documentary. You could see Lissa swell up like some sort of pufferfish or bullfrog. Despite her five-foot-eleven frame and slim build, Lissa seemed to expand exponentially, ready to verbally eviscerate her boyfriend.

"Christian Tarquin Ozera," she started, pausing to put her hands on her hips as she launched into her tirade. "I don't like the tone of your remarks, and I doubt Rose does either! If Rose and Dimitri haven't had the chance to be _alone_ together, it's because they've been busy _risking their lives_ to guard _us!_ Both of them work _twelve hours a day,_ Christian, with very little time off, none of it together! I would think that you would be happy that they're finally having a little time to themselves!"

"Oh, I'm _very_ happy for them!" Christian replied lewdly, smirking at Eddie's verecund expression, "Like I said, if the bedframe's a-rocking…"

"What was that Lord Ozera?" Dimitri challenged, lifting an inquiring dark eyebrow as he walked in from where he'd been packing the car. Christian shut his mouth with an almost audible snap. A sizeable part of Christian was still intimidated by Dimitri; probably with good reason. "That's what I thought. Roza? The car is packed. Are you ready?" he asked, the words falling from his lips like molten honey.

You looked up at your man, nervous now your chance to be together was finally here. You cautiously gave him your hand, inexplicably shy. Dressed in cargo pants and a TShirt, his chin-length hair neatly tied at his nape, Dimitri looked good enough to eat.

"Castile? If you or Edwards have any problems, let me know. We'll only be two hours away," Dimitri said, his thumb stroking the back of your hand in reassurance. Before you knew it, you were in the passenger seat of the SUV, on the road out of Court.

You sat in silence as Dimitri drove, trying not to focus on one inevitable aspect of this trip. It had been _months_ since the night in the cabin – your sole sexual experience to date – and while Dimitri hadn't articulated it, you felt he, like everyone else, had certain expectations about your week away. While Christian might have voiced it via dirty ditties, Lissa had been of more practical assistance, coercing you into a visit to Court's only Victoria's Secret store. After forcing you to model almost everything in the shop, then dropping an inordinately large amount of money on her selections for you, Lissa had continued her harassment by dragging you to several boutiques to update your wardrobe.

"You're very quiet," Dimitri observed, interrupting your disorderly thoughts, his hand reaching over to stroke your leg.

"Just thinking," you said evasively. "So, what's the plan for today?" It was just past midday, and you were nearly at Bethlehem, so while you were wide awake, you knew Dimitri would be sleepy soon.

"We're booked from 2 pm, so I thought we could go to lunch then check in?"

"Check in?" You were doing your best to stop your voice giving away your apprehension.

"Lissa booked us a suite at the Historic Hotel Bethlehem. It's near all the shops downtown."

You nodded, not meeting his eyes.

"Roza? I want you to know, I've made no assumptions about this week. We're here to do a job. I want us to spend time together, but if anything happens, it's on your terms."

"You don't want… _that?"_ you asked, despondent that perhaps now he wasn't interested.

"I do!" he replied with an urgency that was both comical and reassuring. "But I want it when it's right for _us."_

You smiled, reaching out to squeeze Dimitri's leg, and before long, you were in Bethlehem.

"That's the hotel," Dimitri said pulling up across the street from a red-brick historic building. "I'm hungry. How about we find somewhere to eat?" He found a street park, and you walked hand in hand up Main Street.

"What about here?" Dimitri suggested, stopping at the window of a sports bar so you could both scrutinize the menu in the window. "The bourbon ribs sound good."

You looked inside, and it seemed nice enough. Quiet, dark booths with a couple of pool tables and large televisions showing the latest games.

"Let's do it," you grinned, letting Dimitri grab your hand and pull you into the cavernous interior. Once inside, Dimitri led you to the darkest booth in the farthest corner, dragging you across the red leatherette seat until you were almost sitting on him.

"Alone at last!" he crooned, pulling you onto his lap, your thighs straddling his.

"It's been a long time coming," you murmured, enjoying Dimitri's lips on yours. Things might have progressed, had a waitress not approached with a couple of laminated menus and a contemptuous expression. At least for you. You slid off Dimitri's lap, but not before giving him a lingering kiss.

"I'll have the ribs," he announced with a cursory glance at the menu, "and a Heineken."

You glanced at the menu, too. "I'll have the steak sandwich and a Heineken."

The attendant wandered off, too despondent at the lack of attention from Dimitri to query if you were old enough to drink. You sat there, for the first time savoring a date with your man. You ate, drank beer, watched an NFL game perched on your boyfriend's lap, and finally, the two of you wandered hand in hand back to the SUV. Pulling up to the hotel's portico, Dimitri handed the SUV keys to a bellboy and walked you into reception.

"Booking for Belikov," he announced confidently, his arms wrapped around you from behind at check-in.

"Two queens or a king?" the concierge asked perfunctorily.

Dimitri paused, so you answered.

"We'd prefer a king bed."

Unaware of the significance of the five words you'd uttered, the man at reception allocated you a room. Dimitri signed the register, grasping the plastic keys then leading you to the elevator.

"Are you sure?" he asked softly – quietly enough the others accompanying you in the lift wouldn't hear.

"Yes," you whispered.

* * *

When you'd got to your room he'd unpacked, and you'd lolled on the sofa, outlining the requirements for Lissa and Christian's college accommodations; primary of which was it needed to be defensible against potential camisado. Listening dutifully, Dimitri joined you on the sofa, an amused expression gracing his face.

"You're nervous," he interjected, cutting off your rambling monologue.

"I'm not," you immediately fabricated. You were terrified, and Dimitri knew it.

"Roza, come here," he commanded, and you found yourself automatically responding to the authority in his voice. You moved across the sofa and into Dimitri's open arms.

"I love you," he stated before using his finger to lift your chin, his lips poised above yours. "Anything we do, we do at your pace."

And then he kissed you. Softly. The lightest brush of his lips against yours before he pulled back to look you in the eyes, ensorcelling you with just his gaze. Your lips tingled where they had touched his, and there was the faintest taste of the bourbon rib sauce and beer from his lunch. It was good!

You climbed onto Dimitri's lap, rejoicing as his arms snaked around your waist, one hand drifting down to caress the base of your spine. His touch was light – reverent even – and true to his word, Dimitri let you take charge, smiling as you brought your lips back to his, your hand fisting the front of his TShirt as you pulled him to you.

You both groaned as your mouths met again, lips parting as little kisses became bigger. Tongues touched – tentatively at first then with greater fervor. Eyes closed, your fingers found the tie in Dimitri's shoulder length hair, carefully working it with your fingers to free his dark locks.

Dimitri's hair free, you set about removing his top, too. Dimitri's torso was nothing short of Elysian, and the cabin had been your only chance to explore it fully. The subject of many dreams, and even more fantasies, you couldn't wait to touch the smooth skin stretched over his tight rippling muscles. You tugged the TShirt upward, Dimitri obligingly lifting his arms. Tossing the shirt on the sofa beside you, you ran your nose along the skin up to Dimitri's underarm, nuzzling in the soft hair beneath his arm. Smelling of his deodorant, there was also a faint sweat smell which rather than being offensive was irrefutably sexy.

Kissing the soft skin on his inner arm, you let yourself get distracted when Dimitri's hands found your shirt, slowly unbuttoning it to expose your bra. At Lissa's insistence, you'd worn a Victoria's Secret one today in anticipation you might end up making out. Or more.

Dimitri's amorevolous eyes on your décolletage made you grateful you'd gone to a little extra effort.

"I love this," Dimitri said running his fingers with obeisance along the lace trim fringing the sheer upper cup. "Did you wear this for me?" The hope in his voice was adorable.

"I did," you admitted. "I'm wearing the matching panties, too."

Dimitri's libidinous growl went all the way to those panties, thrilling you and drenching the pretty satin and lace. You vaguely remembered being reticent, but those feelings were quickly deserting you, a more sympatic feeling overcoming you.

Skin pressed against skin, lips on lips, you felt Dimitri's hands working at your bra. You could feel his usually dexterous fingers fumbling with the clasp at the back. Pulling back, you teasingly asked, "Need a little help there, Comrade?"

"They make them hard to remove on purpose," he growled, pouting when you undid the hooks and eyes with one quick, practiced flick.

You pulled the bra from your breasts, unhooking it from your arms. And then you were on your back, Dimitri pushing you firmly back onto the sofa as he buried his face in your breasts, his lips finding one of your nipples, laving it softly with his tongue. You were giggling, at first, but soon your giggles turned to gasps as Dimitri alternated between your breasts – lapping with his tongue and gently massaging each soft, warm globe in his hands.

"You smell like jasmine," he murmured kissing the valley between your breasts before scooping you up and carrying you to the bed. You shivered as Dimitri carefully laid you back against the snowy white bedlinens, looking at you as though you were the most sublime creature in existence.

"How about I show you those matching panties?" you suggested with a cheeky grin, fear all but forgotten as you gave Dimitri the go-ahead to step things up a notch. You undid the button on your jeans, letting Dimitri peel them from you, luxuriating in his electrified gaze.

"You're beautiful," he declared, before slowly unbuttoning his cargos and pulling them down his thighs, his movements lissome and supple, like some sort of erotic ecdysiast. Only Dimitri could make getting undressed so provocative, and leave you feeling so desirous.

Your thoughts becoming more prurient by the second, you pulled your man down on top of you, opening your legs and allowing him to fall between them. Both bare now, other than your briefs, it was impossible to ignore the desire between you or the muculent heat of your core. That Dimitri was similarly aroused was manifestly obvious; his briefs barely housing his bulky bulge.

You shimmied beneath him, pulling your panties down a little and letting Dimitri grab them and remove them entirely. He took the opportunity to kiss your toes as he carefully lifted your feet an unexpectedly sweet gesture given the circumstances. Finally removing his briefs to divulge his arousal, you once again admired the Adonis that was your man.

Taut muscles with smooth, unblemished skin, hours of training showed in every sinuous curve. You opened your arms, inviting Dimitri back into your embrace. Seeing was one thing, but you knew from experience that touching was even better. You whimpered wantonly when you were finally flesh against flesh, neither clothes nor circumstance thwarting your desires to be together.

"Your skin is so soft," Dimitri marveled as you lay side by side, stroking and caressing one another between kisses. With his steel-hard arousal pressed against your hip, it was getting more difficult to remember why you'd initially you'd been apprehensive about any of this – because right now you were crystal clear about what you wanted.

"Comrade? Make love to me," you directed, pulling him on top of you.

"Are you sure?"

"I'm sure," you replied, leaning up to kiss Dimitri's neck, right at the point where Nathan's teeth had perforated the skin when Dimitri was turned. An allegoric declaration, of sorts, it seemed fitting to proclaim that place yours before Dimitri claimed your body for the second time.

Dimitri sliding his cock inside you felt like coming home. Familiar, despite long abstinence, your bodies and hearts recognized each other immediately, melding together into one. Dimitri lying on top of you, your arms clasped around his neck and back, together you started a dance as old as time. Unhurried but with determination, Dimitri pulled almost out of you, only to slide in again – repeating this over and over. Writhing beneath Dimitri's expert touch, your reactions were animalistic and instinctual – your body responding to his without direction. Somehow you knew how to touch him to turn his breathy moans into loud, needy groans, how to tilt your hips to meet his, excitement obliging him to quicken his pace.

"Dimitri!" you whimpered, raking your nails down his back as he increased pace yet again. What had started out slow and deep was now a lot faster, the room filled with your feverish mewling and the sound of skin meeting skin as his sack slapped your ass with every thrust. Dimitri's head buried in the crook of your neck, you could feel his tension increasing until he could take no more. Lifting his head and looking into your eyes he managed to bleat a single "Roza!" before he stilled, buried deep in you as his cock spasmed, filling you with his wet heat.

Dimitri hadn't fully finished cumming when he pulled back a little, enough to slip his hand between the two of you. Finding your glistening pearl at the top of your slit, he massaged it with two fingers. You were so close one touch is all it took – and then you were screaming your approval as an orgasm rippled through you. Completely satisfied, now, Dimitri slumped spent on top of you. You lay there with a grin, basking in the aftermath of your lovemaking, unrepentant in your dedition.

Stroking Dimitri's sweaty hair, you sighed happily "Thank you. _That_ was worth waiting for!"

"Hmm," Dimitri agreed, giving you lazy kisses along your neck, giving your collarbone a final loving peck before rolling off you. He was quiet for a moment before he asked seriously "We have waited, haven't we Roza?"

You shrugged. Your road together hadn't been easy, and together and separately you'd already endured more than many other couples had. Now you'd had a second taste of being one with Dimitri, you were disinclined to go back to how things had been.

"I don't want to wait anymore, Dimitri. When we move here, I want us to be a couple. I want to be open about it, and I want you to share my bed. Every night." You were nervous articulating it, but you knew what you wanted, so there was no point pretending you didn't.

"I want that too, Roza. I love you and I want you to be mine."

You smiled as you cuddled into his arms, kissing his soft, warm lips.

"I always have been, Comrade."

 **-00 The End 00-**


End file.
